


with bitter bale in breast

by chickenfried



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Familial Relationships, Mild canon divergence, Reluctant Caregiver Daryl Dixon, Show Warnings Apply
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:14:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29321466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chickenfried/pseuds/chickenfried
Summary: The world has ended and Daryl Dixon is at his dad's hunting cabin. He's not alone.
Comments: 25
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by many incredible Walking Dead fic writers. The beginning will focus on Daryl and an original character, while the end shifts to an ensemble cast.
> 
> This is not edited, and there will be errors. Pointing those errors out (and other criticism) is welcome :)
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KkwU6mJVnFQ

Hunting- tracking in particular- relies on skill, intuition, and luck. Daryl had tracked the deer for a couple of days, found the trail on the third day of his trip. For the first time in days- weeks really- Daryl feels the tension leave his shoulders. He’s aware, but not wary. The smell of dirt, trees, the faint musky smell of deer, the sound of the creek, wind rustling through leaves, faint buzzing of bugs and birdcalls, the open sky above him gives him a nearly overwhelming sense of peace.

He hadn’t been able to find that peace before, not even after the lucky find of fresh tracks and a patch of the Georgia woods seemingly empty of any other humans. The tension from being around Merle, from the people that were always around Merle, while they were riled up about whatever exaggerated virus was overtaking the news had been insidious. Or maybe it was circling back to this overly familiar patch of Georgia.

Finally spotting the deer had done it. She was beautiful. Healthy tawny coat, glossy black eyes and nose. Tail flicking lazily as she picked at some mushrooms. The breeze was blowing her smell in Daryl’s direction, and she couldn’t feel her eyes on him.

Maybe it was because she could tell he didn’t even have his crossbow aimed. That he was waiting for her to finish her mushrooms. Daryl toyed with the idea of letting her go altogether. More than half the time Daryl went out, he’d track for the fun of it instead of the food. He wasn’t a starving teenager anymore.

The peace is gone like he’d imagined the feeling. Daryl remembers the craziness in the store he stopped at before he drove up. He only had about two days of jerky and nuts left in his bag. A couple cans of preserves in the trunk.

Just as he pulls up the crossbow, the echo of a branch cracking- barely audible- comes from behind. He pulls the trigger and the deer looks up just in time to catch the bolt on the side of her neck. Daryl curses at the same time the deer makes an awful choking sound. Daryl pads forward swiftly and pulls out his smaller knife. The deer is thrashing, eyes white around the wide black irises. Daryl’s been hunting since before he was a teenager, he’s not a PETA animal rights fucker, but he’s been feeling off all week. He holds its head down with one hand stabs it through one of those big eyes straight to the brain. It gives one final jerk and stills. There’s one lush chanterelle left, pristine like it belongs on a glossy magazine cover.

Daryl stares for a moment and swears again. He drags the carcass to prop it against a tree. Guts it. Leaves the entrails in a pile. He carries it with him to the creek to rinse off his hands.

As he heads back he can hear more branches snap, leaves brush. It sounds like a drunk shuffling through the foliage. Daryl wrinkles his nose. He can smell the offal, and somehow the shit smell from the gut bag is louder. He can hear something tearing, chewing. Probably a coyote brave enough to get the fresh entrails before Daryl had left the area. He considers putting the deer down to draw his bow, but decides to hold off.

Then he sees him. Its not a coyote. It’s a man. Crouched in front of the pile of red. Daryl drops the deer. The man looks up. His chin is covered in goopy red, like fucking Carrie, skin pasty white. A chill runs straight down Daryl’s spine. He lurches forward from his knees, like he doesn’t know how his body works, eyes fixed on Daryl. He’s sick. He has the virus all of Merle’s people have been arguing about.

“Back off man.” Daryl calls out, voice low, loading his crossbow. The man keeps moving like he didn’t hear him. “Last warning.” Daryl says it more to himself and shoots the poor fucker in the thigh. When the guy keeps going, Daryl’s feelings numb. He redraws and shoots him in the stomach. The man is close enough now that Daryl can see the film over his eyes, and the gut shot didn’t slow him for a second. The dead are rising again. His hands are steady when he loads another arrow or when he shoots the corpse through the eye. It falls flat, and the bolt snaps with a sharp crack against the dull thud of the body.

All of the hairs are up on the back of his neck. Daryl thinks about the truck, parked a dozen yards out from the cabin. He needed to get into town- call 911.

He’d dropped the ice chest on the porch. The roof near the back had been drooping with water damage like it was thinking of giving out, and something had made a nest under the porch. Otherwise it looked the same as in his memories. The faucet in front of the house had run brown with rust for thirty seconds before turning clear. The key, unused on his keychain since he’d slid it from his dad’s after getting his possessions from the coroner’s office, had worked on the dead bolt. Daryl hadn’t opened the front door.

He hadn’t been out to his dad’s cabin since he was fourteen. He’s not sure why he ends up out there five years after the man’s death.

A couple weeks ago, Merle had spouted some bullshit about catching up with old friends and dragged him to some 4 bedroom house with seven people already living in it. It was around the time they got there that people started bugging out about the virus. One woman kept saying it was some illuminati conspiracy, that they were culling the population, while another man claimed the entire thing was a hoax created by internet jokers and another one claimed it was a hoax created to scare people into giving up their rights. Another man would practically start frothing at the mouth, claiming that it was the Chinese when his friend argued it was the Russians. Merle of course, was as high as the rest of them and gleefully starting and continuing their fucking dumbass arguments. For the first few days Daryl tried to drink enough and smoke enough weed to ride out the bullshit, but the fuckers kept getting more and more amped up, and Daryl had to get out.

It was nothing new.

When his brother had picked him up, like they hadn’t talked in 7 days instead of 7 years, Daryl went along. When Merle told him to cut the silent weirdo shit he got louder. When Merle told him his hair made him look like a queer he cut it. When Merle asked him to back him up Daryl had no qualms. And when it was too much, he didn’t argue. He just left. Sometimes for hours sometimes for days, Daryl lived in the woods. He’d see what stories the dirt and branches would tell, find what. And he’d wander back to Merle. Sometimes Merle was pissed he’d made him wait, sometimes he didn’t notice he’d left.

Merle is gonna give him so much shit when he gets back to that fucking house.

When Daryl is a mile out from the truck, from the cabin, thirst sneaks up on him. He plans to drink out of the faucet, fuck whatever bacteria is swimming around in there, dump the entire carcass in the cooler, skin and cut it after he tracks down Merle and they find a good place for it. But when he gets closer he sees the prints. Small feet, dragging against the ground. Straight up from the road to the cabin.

He smells her before he sees her- the sharp scent of body odor not his own or Merle’s, beneath the powerful stench of dead rat- and for a moment he forgets the man, the body, in the woods. His crossbow is up, unloaded, in his hands. There’s a huddled figure back against his kitchen cabinet, kitty corner from the front door, quick breaths audible over the blood pounding in his head.

“What the fuck?”

The squatter is too stupid to rush him before he noticed them.

It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust enough to see that the woman is really a girl- must be around half his age. When Daryl can see her eyes, something in his gut twists. They’re dark. He can’t get the image of the deer out of his mind, thrashing with an arrow in its throat. She’s holding one of his dad’s dull ass kitchen knives in a tight one-handed grip, wavering wildly. Her other hand is wrapped around a kid’s back pressing their face into her shoulder. Daryl jerk’s his crossbow to the side, panic gripping him for the second time that day. He exhales, then inhales slowly.

Daryl isn’t sure how long they stare at each other before the girl’s arm twitches and the knife falls with a clatter, sharp against the dull sounds of his pulse and the intruder’s breathing. She drops back like her wires have been cut, collapsing against the cabinets.

“Mommy?” The kid pulls back, attention fully on the girl. Daryl can barely make out their voice. “Mommy?” Their voice rises in volume and pitch.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Silently, he crouches down to rest his crossbow on the floor, angles himself so that he’s not blocking the still open door.

“I think she’s just passed out.”

The kid full body flinches, then scrambles around to face him. The kid’s eyes are a dead ringer for their mom’s. Fuck. What the fuck.

“Can you help me move her to the couch?” Daryl flicks his eyes from the kitchen to the couch on the other side of the room. The kid’s eyes follow Daryl’s eyeline and then return back to him. Daryl counts to seventeen in his head.

“Mommy said to not open the door.” They speak in a half whisper, some consonants melting so that it takes a moment for Daryl to parse the meaning.

Daryl nods. “I’m gonna close the door. Then I’m gonna move your Mom to the couch. She’s gonna rest a bit and then wake up, ok?”

Daryl counts to twenty, then slowly, without lifting up from his crouch, turns to shut the door with a soft click.

“I’m gonna come over and move your mom.” Twenty seconds.

Fuck.

“Can you nod?” three seconds. A sharp jerk down and up.

“Okay,” Daryl mellows his voice the way he does to animals. The way he’d done to that baby in the house that he and Merle had stayed in for a month. He gets up slowly, feeling a burn in his thighs. Walks over slowly keeping the kid in the corner of his eye, but focusing back on the kid’s mom.

She’s still breathing. Some of the tightness in Daryl’s chest loosens. The kid doesn’t make a move as he picks her up- girl weighs barely more than the deer- pads across the floor and places her on the ancient old couch. She fits perfectly, the way Daryl did when he was thirteen. There are dark circles under her eyes, skin shining with a dull layer of sweat. There’s a bit of blood at her temple. It looks like maybe a chunk of her thick black hair was torn out. Her hands look like they’ve been scrubbed clean, but her shoes are a mess. They’re a pair of those useless canvas sneakers, dirt turning what must have once been white, brown. Her pants leave her ankles visible and Daryl can see red scratches amidst the dirt and mud.

“She’s sleeping?”

Daryl had heard the kid’s cautious approach. Some of the tension leaves his shoulders.

“Yep. If she don’t wake up in an hour on her own, we can try and get her up ourselves.”

The kid nods, jerkily.

Daryl suddenly remembers his thirst. He walks back over to the kitchen and pours himself from the tap. There are a couple of empty cans on the counter. Probably the only ones in the house, and who knows how many years expired. Daryl had stopped at a store on his way up, but it had been more crowded than Daryl had ever seen a store before, people leaving with an army’s supply of toilet paper and random crap.

Fuck.

Daryl doesn’t like the idea of leaving strangers in the cabin, even ones as harmless as the mom and kid, but. He can’t not call the cops after what happened. More than that, he needs to get a hold of Merle. Figure out what the fuck they’re gonna do. It can’t really wait.

The kid is still eyeing him from the couch. Daryl can’t just leave without a word.

“Gotta go into town, make a call.” He waves his hand stupidly. “You, uh, you need water? Food?”

The kid’s head jerks to the side. Daryl shrugs and grabs his crossbow, reaches for the door.

The kid makes a panicked noise in their throat. Daryl looks back.

Their biting their lip, not meeting his eyes like earlier.

“There are monsters outside.”

The hairs raise on the back of his neck. Daryl has been avoiding thinking on what brought the intruders to the cabin.

Daryl can feel the agitation fill his muscles. Angry energy racing through his arms, chest. The kid is sitting with their back against the couch, head resting back against their mom’s thigh. Their arms are wrapped tightly around their knees, mouth hidden. The kid and mom weren’t his fucking responsibility, they’d broken into the cabin. Daryl doesn’t owe them shit.

The house they’ve been at for the past week was only about 25 miles out, but the likelihood Merle would ever think to look for him here was slim. Fuck calling the police, apparently everything had turned to shit in the past few days. All he needed to do was find Merle.

The kid isn’t eyeing him anymore. His gaze is unfocused, toward the dusty shag carpet. Daryl remembers the feeling of that carpet scratching at his hands, his knee through one of the holes in his pants. How musty it had smelled. Daryl can barely smell anything over the smell of rotting animal, but everything looks exactly the same as it did twenty five years ago except for a thicker layer of dust. Like after Daryl left, Dad had continued his same old routines.

Merle had sold the trailer, but neither of them ever mentioned the cabin. Daryl can’t remember what had been in his Dad’s trailer. What could still be here if no one had disturbed the place since he died.

The mom’s chest rising and falling slowly on the couch behind them. Daryl exhales roughly through his nose.

“I’ll wait till she’s up. I’m gonna be on the porch.”

Daryl slams the door behind him with a sharp crack. He jerks out his pack of Winston’s. He’s down to three. The violent edge of his anger simmers lower under his skin with the first inhale.

He hangs and skins the deer with sharp movements. Focuses on the familiar actions and lets the whirring of his thoughts fade into nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

Daryl is almost done trimming the fat off the deer when his hackles rise. There are eyes on him. He breathes out. Finishes roughly, wipes off his knife and hands with a rag, and fits the pales of meat into his battered ice chest. He pulls out another cigarette with a trembling hand. He should eat something. Probably drink more water.

He puts out the cigarette and hoses down the butcher’s block, rinsing his hands better. He’d wiped the thing down before he started, but it was still unsanitary as fuck. He should cook the meat well. He rolls his shoulders, braces himself, before entering the cabin.

The kid is knocked out in their spot on the floor near the couch. The mom is sitting on the edge of it, tension clear in every line of her body. Next to her, against the backdrop of the filthy cabin, the kid looks pristine. The mom's hands are gripping her knees, and her eyes are on the knife at his belt- the crossbow in his hands. Daryl scowls and hangs the bow on a hook near the door.

“M’not gonna hurt you.”

She flinches, and her eyes flick to his and the fact that his voice came out harsh and pissed just riles him up more.

He breathes in. Out. Fills his waterskin at the sink and empties it. The tension in the room is like miasma in his lungs. He wants to pull out last cigarette.

“Please.” Her voice is hoarse, high. She swallows. Daryl wants to crawl out of his skin.

“We didn’t have anywhere to go.”

“S’fine. I’m not gonna stay here.” They both eye each other warily.

“Look. I’ve been in the woods this past week. I saw a man.” It’s only as the words start to spill out of his mouth that Daryl realizes that he’s been waiting to say this to someone.

“I heard him stumbling around, saw him eat the guts of the deer I’d got. He came at me. Had blood dripping all down his front, didn’t say nothing, just groaning. I told him to back off, warned I was gonna shoot, but I knew he didn’t understand me. I shot his leg, but it didn’t do nothing. He just- I shot him in the stomach too, barely flinched, and I saw his, it’s eyes, they were filmed over, and I shot him in the eye and he went down.”

Daryl isn’t looking at the mom, he’s looking at his hands. The mom doesn’t say anything and Daryl risks a glances up at her. Her hands have shifted so that she’s gripping her forearms, like she’s trying to hug herself. Daryl pulls out his last cigarette and lights it.

“I heard about the virus, knew something was going on. Heard people saying shit about corpses walking, but I thought it was bullshit. Conspiracy theory crap.”

They’re silent until the cigarette has burned down to the filter. Daryl never smokes indoors. There’s an ashtray shaped like tits on the counter, filled with butts with a heavy layer of dust over them. It goes out by itself before he can put it out in the sink.

Daryl wants to just walk out the door without another word. Get service, call Merle, see if he’s at the house. There’s a feeling down his spine that hasn’t left since he saw that man on his knees, shoveling bloody deer guts in his mouth.

The man, the corpse in the woods, he hadn’t been sick, he’d been fucking gone. There wasn’t anything human behind those dead eyes. Daryl had heard so much shit about the virus from Merle’s idiots, but he had no idea what, if any of it was true. Apparently it didn’t just make you a cannibal. The thing had been content with deer guts until it had heard Daryl. It had been slow too. Hadn’t tried to dodge is bolts. One track mind.

“Where’d y’all come from?” The mom’s eyebrows knit together like the question is a non sequitur.

“I mean, how’d you get out here? What did you see?”

Her voice rasps so badly he can hardly make out her words. “My brother didn’t trust the city. Thought it would spread faster there. A couple weeks ago, he rented a house out here. Convinced my parents, a couple of our cousins and our aunt to come with him.”

The way the words come out of her throat must hurt, but she keeps going as though, like Daryl, the words have just been building up inside her.

“Yesterday. A couple days ago, I’m not sure, some asshole just fucking hit Jorge. Ran into him with his car and kept on driving. We couldn’t reach 911, and Javi said it wasn't, that I shouldn't, so my aunt drove him to the hospital with Matt and we stayed. I don’t know, uh. A couple hours later we heard someone at the door, thought it was Matt, but it wasn’t. It was one of the, one of the infected. It bit Javi. He. He told us to run, that he was infected, but my parents wouldn’t. I, I had to- I don’t know if-“

When her story derails into quiet, wet gasping, Daryl glances over to see she’s put her face in her hands. Should he leave now? Daryl had wanted to know what things were like in town he hadn’t wanted to hear her fucking sob story. And he’s sure she didn’t want him there watching her. The kid shifts on the floor and she picks them up, hugs the them to her chest like they’re an oversized doll. The kid is pliant for a moment before they start squirming. “Mom?” She’s murmuring something to the kid Daryl can’t make out, voice a raspy susurrus.

“Mommy I’m hungry.”

Daryl exhales. Grabs the last of the jerky in his bag and pads over to the couch, quiet, but slow. The kid has squirmed around so their back is to their mother’s chest and is looking at Daryl with a new expression. Closer, Daryl can make out the mom saying, “Sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t seem aware of Daryl as her kid takes the jerky from his outstretched hand. The kid grins, dimples on both sides of their cheeks as Daryl backs away, and Daryl doesn’t know what to do with how something settles in his shoulders at the kid’s expression. Like the two of them being upset was upsetting to him. Daryl tells himself he doesn’t give a fuck, he just needs to make sure he knows all there is to know before he jumps in the fire to find his brother.

He retreats back to the kitchen and pulls out a musty glass. Wipes it with his shirt, possibly making it dirtier than it was before. He fills it out of the tap and walks back to the couch. He stays a couple feet away.

“Ma’am?” It feels weird to refer to a girl that looks like she could pass for 16, but it doesn’t feel right to call her girl. Fifteen seconds, and she looks up. Takes the glass when he holds it out.

“Thank you.” She doesn’t look all there when she says it. Shell shock. Daryl grunts, and goes to fill the glass again. Sets it on the tv.

He brings in the cooler. Fills the two empty jugs with water and puts them in the back of the truck. Under the sink, there are extra propane tanks, moonshine, a box of salt. He should see if Dad’s old hand gun or rifle are in the back room. His crossbow, ammo. Daryl has no idea what he’s gonna be driving into, and he’s sure as fuck not going to be coming back to this cabin.

The mom is laid out on the couch again, breathing in tandem with the kid splayed out over her like a blanket, both in a sleep too deep to be disturbed by his quiet rummaging.

Daryl grabs a duffel bag from under the bed and finds two rifles and a hand gun. The hand gun is loaded and there are extra boxes of bullets for the rifles, only a half empty one for the hand gun. Knives. Daryl shoves what seems like a dozen socks in the bag, and then finds a dozen MREs in a lower drawer. The one below that he finds the jacket he’d grown out of at thirteen. He’d loved that jacket. It had been Merles. Underneath it is his old bow.

He doesn't know how long he stares at the open drawer.

He puts the MREs on the cooler along with a rifle and two boxes of ammo. The mom had been cowering with a kitchen knife. Does she not know how to shoot? Had she not searched the cabin at all? She’s on the couch in her cloth shoes and too short pants with a thin, long sleeved shirt.

Daryl is furious. He can hear Merle’s voice in his head. _What the fuck are you doing, baby brother? They ain’t nothing to you. Pack up that shit and get the hell out._

The light in the cabin is starting to dim. The mom and kid haven’t moved. It must be a couple hours before sunset. Daryl scoffs at himself and leaves the shit where it when he slips out of the cabin.

He doesn’t see anyone, anything, walking back to the truck. The slam of the door to make it close, the loud grumble of the engine turning over and idling make his nerves rise higher. He grabs his cellphone out of the glovebox. He knows there’s no reception here anyway, but he still feels a rush of hot impatience as he waits for it to turn on. No bars. He digs his fingers into the wheel, and sets off, the path more an area free of trees than a road.

A tall bush scrapes the undercarriage. Three miles later, his phone beeps. The sound makes Daryl jump. He swears and stops the car.

There are three emergency alerts and one missed call from Merle. A voicemail alert pops up. Daryl hits the button to call his brother back.

“You've reached Merle Dixon. Leave me a message and maybe I'll get back to you.” Daryl resists the urge to slam the phone into the dashboard.

He hears the footsteps a moment before something slams against the window.

The woman- the corpse’s face is inches from his. Like the thing in the woods, there’s a film over its eyes like a dead animal. Its skin is white and its teeth are bared and gnashing. He can hear them clack together through the glass. Its hair is grey and matted, half of it stuck to a bloody wound on the side of its neck. Its palms stick to the window, nails sliding down as it claws at him.

Jesus fucking Christ.

There’s a dull thud and Daryl can see another corpse in the rearview mirror, a man behind the woman. Daryl starts the car again and pulls forward. The corpses stumble after him and Daryl’s racing heart slows.

Where had they come from? The woman had been wearing khakis and a cardigan, the man a button- down shirt and suspenders.

The corpses are barely visible behind him when his phone rings. Daryl swears, and breaks, engaging the parking break, but leaving the motor running. He grabs the device from the passenger footwell and flips it open, taps accept and then holds it with his left hand, pulling forward again.

“Merle. Where are you?”

Merle scoffs, the sound sweet relief to Daryl’s ears.

“Better question is where the fuck have you been, baby brother? Or maybe better- where are you now?” There’s a crack of gunfire over the line, the sound of squealing tires.

“Merle?”

“Where are you, you slow mother fucker.”

“I was up at Dad’s cabin, I’m about 20 miles from the house, about a mile outa Hedson.”

There are some garbled crunches through the line.

“Seriously? Well I guess that is appropriate, it is the end times after all.” Merle laughs, and if there was a sliver of doubt before Daryl knows now that his brother is high as shit. “Turn around. I’ll meet you there.”

“What-“ The line is cut before Daryl can get a word out. “Fuck. Fucking asshole.”

He pulls a U-Turn. Passes the pair of corpses from earlier. There are three other ones stumbling by the side of the road as he heads back and Daryl wonders again where they came from. Did they hear the car and follow it?

His stomach drops when he sees the two corpses at the door to the cabin. One turns to watch his approach, starts stumbling over. When he’s out of the car, he sees the fucking door open, and the small figure of the kid is there and the corpse is pushing the door open further and then the other one is in his line of vision. Daryl grabs his knife, furious with himself that he’d left the crossbow on the passenger seat, and stabs the thing in the head, follows it down to pull it out with better leverage.

The kid isn’t in the doorway anymore, but the corpse still is and the mom is. The thing is latched on to her arm, and Daryl looks up just in time to see her drive Dad’s old POS hunting knife into its skull, an echo of his own action.

She’s wearing his jacket, and Daryl can see there’s no blood on the sleeve. The corpse hadn’t bit through.

The kid is staring, frozen, at their mom. The mom breathes out, and then tries to pull the knife back out. His lets his boots scuff as he approaches, and she eyes him warily. Daryl rolls his, and then kneels down and yanks the knife out in one smooth jerk, when she’s moved back. She’s wiggling the fingers of her left hand, eyes unfocused. He wipes the blade on the corpse’s shirt and holds it out to her, handle first.

She meets his eyes when she takes it, until Daryl averts his.

“Thank you.”

Daryl scoffs. The kid runs to her side, like someone hit the play button for them, and she sets the knife on the floor, awkwardly. Daryl’s skin itches. He doesn’t know what she’s done with the sheath.

“Its okay, sweetheart, its okay.”

A moment later, her dark eyes are back on him.

“Is there ice in that chest?”

Daryl frowns. “Its mostly melted.”

She nods and runs a hand down her kid's back. Kisses their hair.

“Go sit on the couch for a bit, Honey. I’ll be right over.”

Daryl stands in the corner, watches her grab a rag off the floor and bring it over to the ice chest. She lifts the lid, MREs clattering to the floor. She glances at him for a second, looking sheepish, and Daryl raises his eyebrows, wondering if he’s missed some cue, if she’s waiting for something from him. Wonders what she’s doing. Her nose wrinkles in distaste when she sees the inside for a second, before she props up the lid with her shoulder and reaches inside. She puts a couple of fistfuls of ice on the rag, only using her right arm.

Daryl realizes he _did_ miss something.

She squirms out of Daryl’s jacket and then he can see the red teeth imprints in her forearm.

“Didn’t break the skin.”

Daryl’s scowl deepens.

She carries the rag back to the couch and presses it to the wound before raising both arms over her head. Its strange to see her lips curve up, until Daryl realizes she’s smiling at her kid’s curious expression.

“Ice and elevation. It keeps the swelling down.”

The sun has set in truth, and its moments away from being true dark. Moon is half full and already risen. Daryl worries his thumb nail with his canines.

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

The woman laughs, quiet, but a little crazy on the edges.

“Mommy’s a nurse.” The kid pipes in with a glare. “She’s super smart.”

The mom shakes her head. “Sorry, I thought you meant, like, in general.” Her voice is clearer than it was that afternoon, still slightly hoarse.

Daryl scowls further. “That is how I meant it. My brother’s coming to pick me up. You can come with us, if you want.”

Her eyes go wide. “Oh, uh.”

Its what Daryl had expected- people like her see people like him, and they cross to the other side of the street.

“I said earlier you can stay here. It’s no problem.”

“No! I just, I mean, do you know where you’re going?”

Daryl shrugs. “Where ever Merle says.”

The mom nods and bites her lip.

“I’d rather stick with other people.” She keeps going when she sees the expression on his face. “I meant- I’d rather we stuck with you. Thank you.”

Daryl tries to force his shoulder down and nods. “Nothing to thank me for. Seems like sticking with other people is the right move.”

There’s an awkward moment of silence. She turns to her kid.

“What do you think, monkey?” 

The kid shows of their dimples. “I wanna go with the angel man.”

Daryl’s shoulders tense again and the Mom snorts, putting down the arm holding the rag. There’s a light in her eyes when she looks at Daryl again and it makes something in his stomach squirm uncomfortably.

“I’m Eva. This is Luna. Thanks for having us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate writing dialogue. Any advice would be appreciated


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eva's POV!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS FOR RACISM. I was going to assume readers would know what they were getting into after watching the show, but with the climate in this country as it is now, I decided against it. After the anti-Asian violence that has been happening lately I couldn't stomach leaving in some of the scenes I had written later in this fic. I do not think that slurs are acceptable or should be brushed under the rug- they are dehumanizing and part of the problem.

Eva had woken up cold, to Luna shaking her arm. There’s a hair-raising scratching at the door, and awful grunting moans. Eva remembers warning Luna to be quiet, all the time, as they ran out of the neighborhood. That they couldn’t let the monsters hear them.

She tries to smile for her daughter, but knows Luna’s terrified expression is reflected back to her.

The room is dim and instead of the hulking man, there’s an ice chest on the floor, with small boxes, a rifle and a jacket tossed over it. Eva kisses her daughter's head and then leaves her on the couch to inspect the pile. Her legs feel worse than they had her first day of cross country, around a decade ago now. Her feet ache and her head starts to pound.

She had glanced through the cabin when they got there and she hadn’t seen any of these things. Although she hadn't had the energy for much more than drinking water, opening those cans and falling asleep in the dusty bed, with Luna tucked to her side. The man must have left them.

Eva feels an odd twinge in her chest at the thought of a stranger looking out for them. The man had said it was fine for them to be there, that he was going to leave. Their conversation was fuzzy around the edges in her memory, tinged with anxiety and despair. She had been terrified of him, almost as much as she is of the infected, but then he’d spoken and she was with another adult. Someone who wasn’t depending on her. She’s not sure if she’s more relieved or afraid that the man is gone.

There’s a massive knife that looks straight out of a horror movie resting on top of the rifle in a leather sheathe. She _is_ in a horror movie. She’s the girl about to-

“Mommy?” Luna’s voice is barely louder than her breathing. Eva swallows. Tries to find some resolve under the panic.

“Its gonna be okay, sweetheart.”

She’d gotten them to the cabin. She’d carried her daughter out of the house, through those streets. Fought her way out of grasping fingers. Trudged through the woods for what had felt like an eternity.

Death is knocking at the door. But the man had left her a knife. Food. She could, she had to do this.

When Eva pulls on the jacket, she hears the car. The infected stop scratching. For a second the only thing that exists was Eva’s pounding heart, then-

“The angel man is back.” Luna says and she’s not on the couch anymore.

Luna opens the door-

Eva is there before he can grab Luna and there is a horrid pain in her arm-

The man had both hands wrapped around her like she’s a chicken leg and he is _grinding_ -

His skull gives under the force of the knife, all the strength she has forcing it down.

The relief is almost overwhelming, when the man- Daryl- explains that she doesn’t have to be alone.

And then she meets Merle.

Merle’s arrival is announced with the massive growl of a truck’s engine. And then a yell.

“Time to get packing, Darlina! We got geeks on our trail, and I saw that fucker Jesse on my way out. We can hole up at his shithole tonight, find a better place in the daylight.”

Eva is feeling better than she had when she woke up, after drinking what felt like a gallon of water, and eating one of the boxes- MREs- Daryl had put out. Her shoes are slightly damp, reeking of the moonshine she'd used to rinsed her stinging scratches. Her arm is still throbbing, but she’s able to move all her fingers and is pretty positive there wasn’t any damage to the bone. She’d used the hunting knife to tear off a piece of her filthy jacket- the one she’d been using for ice- and had asked Daryl to help wrap it. 

As Eva had started to relax, finger combing through her daughters brown bob, Daryl had seemed to get more tense.

He’s up like a shot at the first rumbles of the engine, and stands still- like a hunting dog- before the voice cuts through the night. He’d brought in an electric lamp, and it's casting flickering shadows around the room. When he strides toward the door Eva notices the back of his vest for the first time.

There are white angel wings sewn into the leather.

She can hear the murmuring of their voices, impossible to make sense of through the door, dull metallic thuds, and a pair of footsteps.

“A kid?”

The brother's voice is loud enough to make the two words pop out.

She forces herself to stand up from where she’s sat on the floor, arm resting on the couch, and winces at the feeling of blood in her sore feet. Luna is still fast asleep under a huge camouflage jacket. Eva heart swells, and she gives her self a moment before she pushes forward to grab the bag Daryl had left on the ice chest.

She jumps back as the door swings in, just avoiding being clipped on her toe.

The man in the doorway looks nothing like Daryl, except for maybe the shorn hair. He’s taller, and broader, and his blue eyes don’t squint the same way. Eva can see the entirety of his blown pupils. He looks old, like the aging process had been fast forwarded by heavy drug use.

“Hel _lo_ nurse.”

Eva freezes and dread crawls down her spine.

“Let her through, ya asshole.” It feels like her blood starts moving again all at once, but the man doesn’t step aside, he just raises his hands.

“Manners, boy. Let me introduce myself to the lady.” The man winks at her. “Merle Dixon.”

Eva swallows. “Eva. I’m Eva Romero.”

“And your little taquito?”

The dread ratchets up. She should have left, took her chances- no. They’d die. Eva needed other people, and these two were who she had.

“My daughter’s name is Luna.”

“Luna," Merle rolls the name in his mouth. "Like the moon.” He steps to the side, but Eva suddenly realizes that if she steps past him, he’ll be between her and her daughter.

Daryl shoves past his brother and grabs the bag in her hands, not meeting her eyes.

“Go grab your kid. We’re taking Merle’s truck.”

Eva nods, one jerky motion, and follows his directions, heart racing. Luna is still knocked out, warm and relaxed in her arms. She can feel her pulse where she was bit, throbbing incessantly. Eva focuses on keeping her breath slow and steady.

Merle’s truck is massive. The kind of thing that would take up almost two parking spots. The wheels are almost as tall as Luna. There are footsteps behind her, and then Merle opens the passenger door.

“I know you're used to my baby brother, but some men still have manners.” He eyes her, predatory. Eva keeps her breathing steady.

“Thank you.”

He smiles like a crocodile.

The drive feels like a some level of hell. Maybe this is hell, and she's paying for her sins. Eva is wedged between Merle in the driver’s seat and Daryl in the passenger’s, with Luna in her lap on the strange middle seat. The truck is wide enough that they don’t touch, but Eva feels cornered. Her arm hurts, and she wishes she’d grabbed some more ice before they left. Wants to pull as far away from Merle as possible, but doesn’t want to risk getting closer to Daryl.

She has no concept of how much time it takes to get to Merle’s destination. It’s a slightly less run down, dust free version of the cabin they just vacated. Merle has the key to unlock the door, something that makes Daryl’s eyebrows rise.

“Y’all can have the couch, the bed is mine.”

The couch is a squat, filthy thing, that Luna wouldn’t be able to lie straight on. A moment later, Daryl dumps a camping mat on the floor.

Luna had woken enough to murmur sleepy nonsense, and stumble into the cabin on her own two feet. She’s knocked out again a minute later, but Eva feels as wired as Merle. She lies down and forces her eyes shut anyway.

“You didn’t tell me they were beaners.”

Eva freezes.

Daryl is silent.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, the woman is finely made, but you know how I feel about the mixing of different types of people. And an anchor baby too? Come on, baby bro, I know you’ve got a hard time getting the fairer sex to talk to you what with your face and charm, but _come on_.”

“Shut the fuck up Merle.”

“I was out there, risking my life to find you, and you were shacking up with Latin Spice? It ain’t right.”

“Wasn’t like that.”

“I know! I know you. It’s fucking worse. You ain’t even getting your dick sucked and you're carrying around all this dead weight and begging for more. Letting yourself get used like that, I knew you were dumb, but I thought I taught you better.”

“Can you fucking stop talking until your less fucking high?”

“Whatever. We can play happy families for a while. But you look out for your own, you hear me? Blood. That’s me and you. When the time comes, your charity cases are geek bait.”

Eva hears Daryl cross the room, open and close the front door.

“I know you heard me, Bambi.”

All of her muscles tense, and her arm _aches_.

“I know your kind. Taking advantage. You’re waiting to scrape my brother off like old gum the second you get a better offer.”

Eva

When the sun rises in the morning, Daryl is curled up in the couch and Luna hasn't budged. Eva is beyond exhausted. More than that, she _hurts_. She hadn’t had the guts to get more ice. She unwraps the makeshift bandage gingerly, arm muscles protesting. Her forearm is a swollen, tender mess, burst blood vessels vibrant through the skin. All her fingers move, but flexing them makes the wound ache.

She lies in indecision until the sun brightens through the curtains and hears Merle step loudly into the kitchen. Eva isn't sure he had slept either.

“Good morning, America!”

Luna rolls over, and tightens her grip on Eva’s shirt. Daryl jumps out of the couch like he’s been shot. Merle ignores them all, and fills a kettle before heading out the front door, footsteps clomping, door creaking, slamming.

After his eyes flick over the room, Daryl stretches like a cat. His body odor wafts over to Eva and she can’t help wrinkling her nose. This cabin doesn’t smell like something had died in it, and her nose had adjusted back. Eva notes the tacky, uncomfortable feeling of her own armpits and wonders if she smells any better. She and Luna were wearing the same clothes they’d left in two- three?- days ago. Thoughts of rashes and bladder infections drift through her head. Rotten gums.

After drinking a glass of water, seemingly content to ignore Eva and Luna, Daryl grabs a bag and closes the door to what is probably a bathroom. Eva feels an abrupt rush of jealousy, verging on loathing, when she hears water run. She’s distracted by Merle coming back in, with one of the buckets of deer meat from the cooler.

“Who’s that, Mommy?” Luna’s voice cracks a bit, but she is bright eyed and bushy tailed. Eva is so relieved that she’s okay that she can’t wish the girl was still asleep, but it’s a close thing.

“Sleeping Beauty awakes! I’m Merle, Daryl’s big brother.”

It feels like a strange dream. Merle is holding a massive knife, and there’s a kitchen towel over his shoulder. The smell and sound of coffee percolating cuts through the body odor in the cabin, and a cast iron pan is sizzling.

The formula that Eva had drilled into her daughter’s head in pre-school and kindergarten pops through. “Nice to meet you Mr. Merle.”

The man’s pupils have shrunk to a normal size, and there’s a calculating glint in them that Eva hadn’t seen last night. They linger on the jacket she’s wearing, the one Daryl had left out.

“Likewise. You ever had deer for breakfast? Come sit by the table, I’ll show you how its done.” He pulls a chair out from the poker table near the stove and winks at Eva. “If that’s alright with you, Bambi.”

Eva doesn’t let herself freeze. She can’t bring herself to smile, but she does give Luna an acquiescing nod. Luna grins and hops over to the table. Eva's legs and feet scream their displeasure when she forces herself after.

“Good morning. It’s Eva, she’s Luna.”

The look on the man’s face is wicked, before he turns back to slicing a piece of meat into thin strips.

“Eva. Luna.” He takes a swig out of the beer can next to him.

Eva doesn’t notice Daryl until he’s already pouring coffee. He puts a cup in front of Merle before glancing at her. Eva shakes her head, not quite sure if he’s offering. He pours another cup, and starts sipping it in the corner of the kitchen. He can see all of them at that vantage point, and out the crack in the white curtains of the window.

The interrogation starts after Eva has cut up Luna's plate of meat. Daryl had torn into with his hands, from his spot in the corner of the room. Eva averts her eyes. Luna’s feet are swinging, heels thudding against her chair, next to Eva. Merle is leaning back, across from her, the poker table leaving them about five yards too close for Eva's comfort.

“You were a nurse, hmm? So you know any more than us average joes about this _virus_?”

Eva’s knife scrapes against her plate. She swallows, mouth dry.

“I was in school to become a nurse. I was in my third semester.”

Merle’s eyes cut over to Daryl. Eva remembers their conversation last night. had Daryl convinced his brother to bring them because he thought she was useful?

“So that’s a no. All I know you get bit, you’re done for.” He looks down at her arm, then back up to her eyes, deliberately slow. “What’ve you seen? You know anything else about how it spreads? Scratches?”

“Viruses are usually spread through the mucus membrane.” Eva’s heartrate slows. “Either directly, through droplets, or more typically through touching something and then rubbing your eyes or nose, or eating without washing your hands.”

Merle gives his brother a pointed look and Daryl scoffs.

“People usually get bacterial infections from scratches and bites, but rabies is viral. It’s easily treatable,” The name Louis Pasteur pops into her head- 1885-“but if left untreated, it would kill in a couple weeks. The early reports said that this infection has a rapid spread, and that patients deteriorated in hours.”

Merle sniffs. “And at what stage does the taste for human flesh set in?”

Daryl scoffs. “They eat anything fresh. First geek I saw was eating deer guts.”

Eva chews her lip.

“I don’t know. I don’t think there was a lot of time to study it, or put out reports.”

“Took my buddy about 24 hours after he got himself bit." Merle rubs a hand over his mouth. "How likely is it we’re all infected already?”

Daryl stiffens by the counter.

“I haven’t seen any of us display symptoms. Fever, sweating, paleness, extreme pain and fatigue.”

“None of you getting a hankering for trying out cannibalism?”

Eva shrugs. “We could be asymptomatic.”

Daryl scowls. “The geeks aren’t sick people. They’re dead.”

A shudder works its way down Eva’s spine.

Merle scoffs. “Dead people don’t walk.”

“Neither do people with a chunk taken out of their necks.”

Luna’s plate is empty. Eva straightens her shoulders.

“Thank you for the food. Could we use the restroom?”

Daryl scoffs. Merle smirks. “Go right ahead, Bambi.”

Eva debates with herself. Doesn’t ask for a shirt. For toothpaste.

There’s a wet bar of soap on the counter with dirty foam on it. Under the sink, Eva finds an extra bar of soap and three rolls of toilet paper.

Eva makes the mistake of looking in the mirror over the sink. Her hair looks like a bruja’s and there are dark bags under her bloodshot eyes. There are a couple brown-red droplets of dried blood on her jaw. She wraps her hair into a bun, grease and dirt helping to make it stay.

She uses the makeshift bandage to scrub at their teeth, give herself and Luna a whore’s bath, using toilet paper to help rinse off. Luna is less than enthused with her hurried cleaning, but Eva wants to be undressed as briefly as possible. It’s painful and awkward to clean the scratches on her ankles. Thankfully, they don’t look infected yet.

Eva doesn’t dare to take off her shoes without clean socks to change into and her pants are filthy, but her shirt and Luna’s clothes are relatively clean. She flips their panties inside out, and after a moment, does the same with her shirt. She’d been right. The smell is almost nauseatingly strong.

She washes the cloth twice before she wraps it around her forearm, cool and wet, and asks Luna to tie it for her.

It’s only Merle in the kitchen when they walk out. A shot gun held casually over his shoulder as he looks out the window. His eyes are dilated again, and he grins at her.

“You know how to shoot?”

Eva swallows, mouth dry. “No.”

“Alright then, lets get on the porch.”

Daryl is standing by the truck with a crossbow raised, staring out into the road. His eyes flicker to them, before focusing back. There are three infected shambling nearer. Eva can see the sun glint off the necklace of the closet one. A cross like her Dad wore.

“Put your legs about shoulder width apart.”

Merle grabs her upper arm and kicks at her foot. It takes Eva a second to register Merle’s words, and then Daryl is speaking.

“What the hell? Get in the truck!”

Eva can feel Luna frozen beside her.

“Bambi’s gotta learn to shoot, and I say we’ve got some prime targets right here.”

Merle’s voice is loud in her ear. He’s fucking crazy.

The infected, the _corpse_ , is looking straight at her. Its stomach is a red smear, oozing down to its legs.

She can feel his body behind her, smell his sour, beer-tinged breath. The rifle is a solid weight on her shoulder. He brings her right hand up. Wraps her left hand around the barrel. Then he presses her cheek against the cold body of it.

“Look through the circle.” Eva finds the cross through the black scope.

“Aim for the nose.” Eva adjusts.

The infected stumbles, and then there’s only sky through the sight line.

“Well, Bambi? You gonna pull your weight?”

Eva adjusts again, vision blurring outside the black circle. The corpse's eyes are a filmy white. It has a scraggly brown mustache. She pulls the trigger, and the shot is louder than anything she’s ever heard, and the rifle slams back against her collarbone and shoulder, and the corpse is collapsed, another one overtaking it on its path toward them, blonde hair hanging over it's face.

“Booyah!” There’s a heavy hand on her shoulder, and Merle jerks the gun out of her hands, and they feel so light.

“I am a damn fine teacher.” He shoots the other one. Eva can see the intricate flower embroidery on the third. “Baby brother? We got three geeks and three able bodied shooters.” An arrow goes through one of its blue eyes. Eva's shoulders relaxes and she can finally look away.

Daryl is eyeing them with an unreadable look. He’s next to the truck, and Luna- how had she lost track of- is sitting in the passenger’s seat, eyes wide through the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a second chapter ends with Eva taking out a walker. Daryl absolutely led with Eva's "profession" in his conversation with Merle. If I had more energy/brains I would try to fancify Merle's speech.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos! After writing and scrapping a couple ideas, I now know where I'm going with this and am committed to writing up to a certain resolution point.

It’s a relief. To be so scared and focused on survival that she can’t think back. Driving along the outskirts of the city, it’s a miracle they didn’t get stuck before they start taking backroads. Merle’s plan was to head to a quarry near Atlanta. Water, game, close to an urban area where there’d be resources. There had been a couple close calls with squeezing through abandoned cars and a couple of terrifyingly large groups of the dead. Geeks, Merle calls them.

Eva learns why Merle had said a higher truck was worth the gas. They’re able to just drive over dozens of the things like speed bumps. Most of them seem drawn toward the glowing wreckage of the explosion, _Atlanta_ had been _bombed_ , but they all turn towards the truck when they get close enough to hear it.

It’s also easier to ignore her fear of the two men she’s with, when she’s focused on being terrified of the dead. The image of the corpse she shot lingers. She’s hyper aware that she’s at the mercy of these strangers. It doesn’t help that Merle had been actively against bringing them along, and Daryl acted as though someone was threatening to him at gun point to force him to help them.

For most of the ride Merle has been running his mouth with the occasional response or inquiry from Luna. Eva doesn’t have any room left to have an emotional response to Merle teller her daughter about carnival workers whose job it was to bite the heads off living animals. Geeks.

Daryl has been leaning against the window with his eyes closed, but convinces Merle to stop when he sees a red ford explorer pulled neatly to the side of the road.

“Why the fuck would we want to trade in for that piece of shit?”

“We’ll take both, we need more space to sleep.”

“You sure you’re not trying to live out your secret soccer mom fantasies?”

There are people- no, geeks- inside. Eva closes her eyes, and tries to erase the image from her mind, pretend she just imagined it. She holds Luna to her chest, and tries to think about anything else.

Merle follows Daryl until they are in sight of a group of cars.

“Goddamn mother-fuckers.”

Eva can see at least twenty people bustling around a massive campsite. Most of them are watching their arrival. Two men are holding guns. Daryl is already out of the car, crossbow in hand. Merle jerks the truck to a harsh stop and jumps out. Raises both hands.

“Hello.” The white man speaks first, authoritative. There’s a thin woman next to him with dark hair. She looks at Eva and Luna and puts a hand on the man’s shoulder.

Eva can see women in the camp. A couple of Latino kids, around Luna’s age are peering at them from behind their mother. There’s a bright red umbrella on top of an RV, a man in a bucket hat sitting on a beach chair under it. The shadow is cast at an angle so that the man is entirely in the sun.

Eva flinches when the truck door opens. Daryl is scowling at her.

“What’re you waiting on?”

Luna is hopping down before Eva can react. Daryl skirts back, out of her way. Eva’s legs almost give out when her feet hit the ground, and Daryl catching her arm is the only thing that keeps her standing. It takes a second for them to start hurting again instead of feeling like jelly.

“Are you alright?”

The thin woman’s in Daryl’s place. Daryl is crouched down next to Luna, but Eva can’t make out what her daughter is saying. Eva’s lips twitch, but it seems like she’s lost the ability to smile politely. The scene before her doesn't feel real.

“I’m fine, just a little stiff.”

“Shane was gonna make introductions, but why don’t we find somewhere for you to sit? I’m Lori, by the way.”

It’s strange, that Eva wants to be alone with this woman less than she wants to be with the Dixon brothers. Lori follows her gaze to where Luna is pouting at Daryl.

“Its safe as can be out here, she’ll be fine with her Daddy.”

Eva can’t help her expression, and thankfully Lori takes it in stride.

“Oh! Oh, my husband, he didn’t make it either.”

Eva swallows. “I’m sorry to hear that. Thank you, Lori, I appreciate it, but I’d like to meet everyone now, if that’s okay.”

Lori smiles, only slightly forced. “Of course.”

Luna skips back and grabs Eva’s hand. “Daryl wouldn’t give you a piggyback ride.”

Eva’s heart stops, and something between a laugh and a choke comes out of her throat. Eva can see that the backs of Daryl’s ears are bright red as he walks over to Shane.

There are twenty-two other people in the camp. Lori tracks down her son Carl, a cute kid that is engaged in a very important game with a slightly older girl, Sophia. Sophia’s mom is Carol and her Dad is Ed. Daryl seems to pay more attention to that little family than any of the others in camp.

There’s a strange variety of moods throughout the group- some seem subdued, shell shocked. Some seem to be living in a constant state of terror and some seem to be treating it like some great adventure.

The other family there is comprised of Miranda, the mom, Juan, the dad, Louis and Eliza.

Merle is watching them with an unreadable expression. Eva’s gut twists.

Miranda greets her with a warm, “Habla espanol, Negrita?” 

Eva forces the words out, anger burning in her chest. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

Juan smiles and puts a hand on his wife’s back. “I’m a ‘pocho’ too, no need to apologize. We’re glad to see another family made it out.”

Merle is showing his shark-grin and Eva-

“How old are you?” Their girl, Eliza, asks Luna, her brother vibrating next to her with excitement.

Luna grins. “I’m 7-and-a-half! How about you?”

“I’m 7 too!” Louis cuts in before his sister can answer.

They are introduced to the people in front of the RV last. Dale, the man in the bucket hat, greats them from his perch. Two Aryan dream sisters- Andrea and Eva- are sitting in front of it.

“You can take a hot shower if you want.” Eva, the younger sister offers brightly. Then flushes.

“I mean, I don’t-”

“A hot shower would be lovely, thank you.”

Daryl spits and Andrea's nose wrinkles.

“I’ll grab the suitcase from the car.”

Daryl is gone before she figures out what he means, and Eva’s stomach rolls.

“I see you keep him around for the arms, and not his personality,” Andrea snarks.

Merle wheezes out a laugh. “She’s got you pegged, Bambi. Leave little Luna with these fine ladies a moment, and let’s have us a talk about taking care of my baby brother’s heart.”

Andrea raises both eyebrows, incredulous, but Amy looks thrilled, and Luna is looking at the RV with curious eyes. Near the center of camp, people wandering around, with Dale on top, it was probably the safest place there.

They’re only a couple of yards from the RV, next to a tree when Merle stops.

“I know what you’re thinking. You’re a smart one. Have more instincts than that tribal bullshit. We’ll keep ya as long as you stay useful and remember where your loyalties lie. But don’t be getting ideas- no matter how cute your kid is, blood is blood.”

It’s what Eva had wanted, but as the words come out of Merle’s mouth she wants to throw up. 

Luna is ecstatic when she walks back to the RV. "Ms. Amy said there's a _lake_!" Amy is almost comically excited by Luna's enthusiasm. Being alive, in this moment, feels surreal. When Daryl comes back, Amy offers to guard the door while she showers.

Luna is itching to go play with Luis, but the thought of her daughter leaving her line of sight sets panic itching under her skin. Even with Juan’s gun, Eva doesn’t trust him to watch her daughter. He has two other children to prioritize. And what would the Dixon brothers think about her kid spending more time with more members of their “tribe”? Eva swallows down her bile. She hedges her bets.

“Daryl?” The man turns back around and crosses his arms. “Will you please keep an eye on Luna while I get cleaned up?” Luna jumps a little in excitement.

He raises both eyebrows. “Do I look like a goddamn babysitter?”

Eva pushes forward. “Miranda said she’d watch her, I just need you to-”

Daryl scowls further. “Fucking fine, woman. Get going.”

Luna tries to skip over to Daryl, but Eva catches her before she’s out of reach. She gives her daughter a hug, kisses her hair.

“Have fun, sweetheart. You’re getting clean next. And don’t forget to thank Ms. Morales and Daryl for watching you.”

Luna grins. “I will, Mommy! Love you.”

And her daughter is off. Out of arms reach for the first time in days. Eva is tempted to run after, to call her back, but she forces the feeling down and grabs the suitcase. Daryl had left a pair of slightly muddy hiking boots on top of the bag.

Eva breaks down in the shower. Gasping, angry sobs. She tries to pull herself together three times before she succeeds, and shuts off the water to scrub down every inch of skin she can reach as fast as possible. Andrea had told her she was welcome to use the toiletries in the little cubicle. The soap is unscented and the shampoo smells overwhelmingly of synthetic coconut. Strong enough that it nearly overpowers the smell of her socks. Her hair is knotted so badly that she’s pretty sure she’ll have to cut it off instead of detangling it, and she has the beginnings of a rash under her breasts and armpits, where her bra lines up.

She turns the water off as soon as she’s rinsed, and twists her hair to squeeze the water out of it. She rubs herself briskly with the towel Amy had given her, and wraps it around her chest. The clothes in the suitcase are all three sizes too big, but she finds a belt that will hold up the jeans just above her hips at its smallest hole. She puts on three pairs of thick hiking socks, and then the boots are only slightly loose. It’s easy to figure out how to attach the sheath of the hunting knife to the belt, and Eva feels better having it there than in her jacket pocket. She pulls the musty thing on over her clean clothes anyway. She finds a toothbrush and toothpaste, but no hairbrush.

Merle is talking to Carol, Ed and Shane at the center of the camp, where a fire is being started. Eva carries the suitcase awkwardly back to the truck. It’s been turned around so that the front is facing the road. She’s interrupted before she can try to lug it into the bed one-handedly.

“Need a hand?” It’s the big black man that’s offered, friendly smile on his face. Eva’s shoulders relax.

“Thank you, I was about to try something a bit ill advised.”

He lifts it up easily. “Happy to help.”

“I’m sorry, what was your name?”

“T-Dog. It’s a college nickname that stuck with me.”

“Nice to meet you again T-Dog and thanks.”

“You’re welcome. And please give a holler if you need anything.”

“That spear chucker dogging you?” Merle’s voice nearly makes Eva jump out of her skin.

She meets Merle’s eyes. Keeps her face blank.

“He helped me get that suitcase into the truck.”

Merle smirks. “I bet he did. After you get your kid cleaned up, it would be good to sort through that Explorer. I get the understanding that the good people of this camp would look down on how we came into our possessions.”

Eva nods. Merle claps a hand on her shoulder, and Eva doesn’t shrug it off, chest tight.

“I’m gonna set up my tent.”

Daryl nods at her when he catches her eye, and walks off.

“Mommy! I stayed up for ten seconds!”

Eva can feel her chest lighten. “Awesome job, Monkey! You’ve worked so hard to be able to do that.”

Luna grins toothily, showing off her gap. “I showed Louis how to use the car to help at first too.”

Despite her protesting arms, Eva swoops up her filthy daughter and spins around before she turns back to the Morales family. Miranda is giving her that soft look.

“Thank you for watching her. I’m happy to return the favor anytime.”

Miranda waves her hand. “It was no trouble at all, Honey. Luna’s a good girl.”

Eva looks at her daughter.

“Thank you for having me over Mrs. Morales. Louis.”

“You’re welcome.”

"Mrs. Morales wouldn't let me climb any of the tree. I _told_ her I’m a really good climber." Luna complains as they walk to the RV.

Eva smiles. "Thank you for listening to Mrs. Morales, it sounds like that was hard to do."

Eva takes more time making sure her daughter cleans herself thoroughly. She doesn’t think about the smaller suitcase she’d sorted through in the explorer to find a set of clean clothes for Luna to wear. Her daughter thinks it’s funny to wear boxers, and the pants are a little too short, but they suffice. Luna protests wearing the rain-jacket, but Eva doesn’t give her a choice.

The camp has deer chili “courtesy of the Dixon brothers” with a large chunk of the camp sitting around the low burning fire in front of the RV. Juan and Miranda are both eating on top of the RV. Merle had emerged from his tent with dilated pupils and a loud mouth, raising the hackles of all of the adults before sauntering off to another campfire. Daryl had tried to take off with a bowl of chili, but Merle had called him back, and now he's sitting expressionlessly, narrow eyes focused on the woods, as the men around him talk about digging a latrine.

"I wish I'd brought better books."

Eva is sitting with Andrea and Amy, Lori, Carol, and another woman, Jacqui. Jacqui had offered to watch Luna, if it was ever needed.

"I wish I'd brought more socks."

"I wish I could use a blow dryer." 

"I wish I'd brought a pair of scissors!" Lori brushes her long hair out of her face. "I was going to go in for a trim with Carl, before we evacuated."

Eva joins in. "I'll second that. I'm about ready to just use a knife."

Amy gasps in horror. "But your hair is so beautiful."

Eva snorts. She used to be vain about her hair, thick black waves, but it feels like a ridiculous thought now.

"My hair is a rats nest, I might need to burn it. I forgot to pack a brush."

Amy brightens. "I have a whole bottle of detangler, can I please brush out your hair for you?"

Eva raises her eyebrows, feeling lighthearted at the girl’s clear excitement. 

"You're the one who'd be doing me a favor!"

It feels like she's back in high school- giddy. Not fake, but overexaggerated. Daryl’s eyes glint in the dim light from the logs, and even though they are focused on the dark trees, Eva can feel his attention.

Amy braids her hair in the RV, Dale having a very serious discussion with Luna about the positive qualities of different dog breeds in the front seats. Andrea is on the outskirts, and when Dale asks for her opinion, she answers with odd pauses, clearly unused to children.

"You know we have room here if you want to stay." Dale offers when Amy is done. Eva smiles. 

"Thanks, but we're all set with the explorer."

"Those two don't seem-"

Eva laughs, bright and fake. "They're a little rough around the edges, but they've done right by me."

"Mister Merle showed Mommy how to shoot geeks!" Dale looks a little horrified. "It was so. Cool."

Merle and Daryl are standing by the truck when Eva and Luna walk over. Daryl gives her a strange look, but keeps talking.

"I'm just saying, this close to the road isn't the safest spot."

"Safer than in a tent, isn't that what you were saying?" Merle catches sight of her and laughs.

"Ohoho, you really _were_ braiding each other's hair! I wouldn't mind watching that sleepover."

"Mr. Merle, could you show me how to shoot the geeks?"

Eva crouches down and picks her daughter up before Merle can respond. "You see a geek? You run and climb a tree, Monkey. Is the explorer unlocked? We're about ready to settle in."

"You ain't staying in the RV?"

Merle laughs at his brother. "Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that head of yours. Get your killer settled in, Bambi, and lets have us a little powwow." 

Despite her previous energy, Luna is out the second she's settled under the big hunting jacket. Eva closes the door as softly as she can. She'd put down the seats and moved the suitcases and bags from the explorer into the truck earlier, and there was a decent amount of space now. 

“They only got one guy on lookout. And all of them just there in that chair," Daryl is saying as she walks back.

Merle nods. "The people here are afraid, but they're pretending their untouchable. They're bunch of pansy-asses, darkies and democrats- no offense Bambi. It's almost like they're begging to be ripped off. Keeping that nice stockpile of supplies."

Despite what Merle had said earlier, Eva is surprised he'd invited her to this discussion. Daryl is silent, scowling. And Eva hates him. Eva hates Merle more than she knew she was capable of hating anyone. Hates Daryl _more_ for having Merle as a brother.

Most of the people here are like her and her family, completely unprepared. They had all been so incredibly kind to her. Luna had been thrilled, playing with other kids.

“Geek bait."

Both Dixons eye her.

"That’s what you called us. It was your idea to come out here, because it’s a good location. Why should we leave because there are ready made distractions in place?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accidently posted the wrong chapter! I realized today that this was heavily inspired by gunmetal_ring's Found (which is fucking fantastic)  
> Next chapter will move much quicker, time wise.

All the things she’s too busy to think about during the day come out in Eva’s dreams. It’s like her unconscious mind is hyper aware that she’s lying above gore stained seats.

She’s sitting in the passenger’s seat and Manny is next to her. There’s a belt around his arm. They’re sitting in the remains of the explorer’s family, blood and guts warm, wet against her back. Her arm. Luna is hugging it against herself, chewing into Eva’s flesh, the bone is crunching and Eva is looking down the scope at her father and she pulls the trigger, and her mother, and Javi’s shoulder is bit and he’s telling her to leave and she’s at the hospital and the parents that were in the explorer are yelling and their kid is-

Eva wakes with a jerk, heart pounding. The sun is glaring through the windows of the explorer. The air is stuffy and Luna is a hot weight against her side. Eva feels tacky with sweat.

Luna stirs when Eva sits up. Her muscles are stiff, but they don’t scream at her the way they had been yesterday.

“Where are we, Mom?” Luna’s voice squeaks, the way it always does when she wakes up in the morning.

“We’re at the camp. Remember coming here yesterday?”

Luna yawns and nods in response. “Yeah. I forgot. Is Abuela and Tio Javi going to come today?”

Eva’s gut aches, and the air heavy and hot. “No honey, they’re not coming.”

Luna’s face crumples. “Did the geeks get them?”

Eva runs a hand over Luna’s hair. “I don’t know, Luna. I’m sorry.”

She lets her daughter cry into her chest, painful lump in her throat, until she can’t stand one more second in the car.

“Let’s go get some water.”

When she opens the door, the fresh air feels like Nirvana. There are a couple of people milling about the camp, but Eva doesn’t see Daryl or Merle. Jacqui, from where she is chatting with T-Dog, catches her eye and waves.

There’s an unopened 20 oz bottle of water in the passenger footwell. Eva lets Luna drink her fill, before she drains it. Luna sits in the passenger seat, knees pulled up to her chest. Eva stands next to the open door, and her muscles pull stiffly when she stretches.

“Good morning, you two.” Jacqui has left T-Dog to meet them at the car. Eva smiles back.

“Good morning, Ms. Jacqui.” Luna echoes her greeting.

“Did you sleep alright in that car?”

Eva rolls her shoulders back. “I think I could have slept anywhere, honestly.”

“I heard down the grapevine that you were interested in doing some laundry today. Some of the women and I are going to head down in a couple minutes, but if you’re not feeling up to it, I’d be happy to take care of your things for today.”

For a second, the lump is back in Eva’s throat.

“That’s very kind of you. Would it be a bother to wait until I get Luna fed? I don’t want to impose.”

Jacqui laughs. “It would be no imposition; I’m trying to find ways to keep busy. But if you want to come and gossip for a minute, waiting won’t be a problem.”

Luna brightens when she remembers that she’ll get to go swimming. Eva has a laundry basket that Carol had lent her tucked underneath her arm, with the towel she’d used yesterday and Luna and Merle’s clothes. Daryl had said he “can wash his own damn underwear” when she’d offered the night before. Amy is telling Luna that she’s excited to have a chance to go in the water too. Apparently the two sisters and Dale had only arrived in camp a few days before them.

They see Merle talking with a man and a woman she can’t remember the names of as they head down to the quarry. The woman looks disgruntled- a reaction Eva assumes the man universally inspires in women. Eva has to resist the urge to ask him where Daryl is.

Luna tugs on Eva’s sleeve in excitement. “Mr. Merle! Come swimming.”

“No can do, little moon- I’ve got to keep an eye on you lovely ladies.”

He winks at Andrea. Amy laughs uncomfortably and Andrea flashes a silver hand gun.

“I’ve got us covered.”

Merle laughs his smoker’s rumble.

“Everything good over here?” Shane asks, presence looming. Eva recognizes his tone of voice. It’s one that men who want to be in charge use to piss people off and then claim they had been trying to ‘deescalate’ the situation.

Andrea rolls her eyes. “We’re good.”

“Dixon,” Shane starts, but then sighs and seems to change tactics, “You were telling me last night-”

Eva takes the chance to push her group back on their path. The water is a pristine blue that looks like it belongs on the cover of a nature magazine.

Amy and Luna race to take their shoes off. Amy is wearing a bikini, and Luna wades into the water in the boxers and T-shirt, both shouting at the cold.

She feels lower than scum for asking these people for more, but she does anyway.

“Do you think you could give me some pointers?” 

Andrea looks confused. “For shooting?” Eva clarifies.

“Oh!” Andrea looks embarrassed. “I don’t actually know very much.”

Eva frowns. “Maybe we could ask Juan or Shane.”

Andrea scowls, embarrassment shifting to anger.

“Shane wanted to take it. He said we need to ‘pool our resources’. My dad gave me this gun.”

Jacqui’s face screams that she’s staying out of the conversation. Eva turns one side of her mouth down. “I’m sorry, that’s shitty.”

Andrea shakes her head. “The men here act like we need to revert to centuries old gender roles. Like feminism was some fantasy and now we’re back to reality where ‘men are men and women are women’. Like a woman couldn’t possibly protect herself.”

Andrea also just admitted to not knowing how to use the weapon she had to ‘protect herself’. Eva remembers the rifle cool and hard against her cheek, feeling the power of the bullet leaving after she pulled the trigger. Before, she had looked down on gun enthusiasts with disdain- like they were men acting like boys with lethal toys. She regrets it now.

Eva’s stomach sinks when she realizes that the only protection they have is the hunting knife at her hip. She can see the carnival umbrella on top of the RV at the top of the incline.

Luna surfaces from under the water with a gasp.

Eva’s bitter feelings wash away at her daughter’s happy grin. She carefully pulls off her jacket, and waffles for a second before setting it down next to the basket instead of washing it. She feels vulnerable without it on and doesn’t want to wait for it to dry.

Eva looks up from her scrubbing when she hears a sharp inhale. Jacqui’s eyes are fixed to the massive bruise on her forearm. It’s aged to a nice dark purple.

“Did Daryl do that?” Andrea asks, breathless.

“What? No!” Eva realizes as she says it that her denials might not make a difference if they think she’s trying to lie to protect him. “It was one of the infected.”

“And you didn’t turn?”

“It didn’t break the skin.”

“Jesus.”

Eva wrings the water out of Luna’s pants before putting them back in the basket.

“I don’t have a fancy tent or anything,” Jacqui starts, “but T helped me rig up a nice little overhang. There’s room if you want a place to stay that’s more kid-friendly.”

Eva works to keep a smile on her face.

“I get why you’re offering, and I really am grateful, but Daryl makes Luna feel safe.”

Jacqui nods in understanding. The shitty thing is, Eva doesn’t know if Luna feels safer with Daryl. Eva doesn’t know that _she_ feels safer. She had just decided the man was their best chance for survival.

Eva spends the afternoon rigging up dresses and shirts to block the light into the explorer. Luna had worn herself out swimming and was taking advantage of the newly constructed shade. Daryl comes over when she's in the process of tearing a cotton dress into strips for makeshift bandages, sitting in the truck bed. A massive bike takes up a third of the space, with two suitcases next to it. Daryl nods at her in greeting, five squirrels hanging on a line over his shoulder.

"People here are too fucking loud. Scared away all the game nearby except for these dumb fuckers."

Eva puts her strips into a plastic bag- one that had housed toiletries previously, and she had wiped out with a swab from the first aid kit in the car.

"Can I help?"

Daryl snorts. "You know how to skin a squirrel?"

Eva swallows her pride and forces out, "I'd like to learn."

Daryl, Eva has learned, tries to keep from expressing anything beyond anger, but he's not particularly successful. He looks gob smacked at her answer for a brief moment before his face returns to its usual frown. 

He's not a good teacher. Daryl had Eva skin two with his help and one on her own despite his obvious impatience. The man is practically vibrating with agitation by the time they are done, and Eva can feel her own energy matching his.

“What’re you sticking around for?” 

The question finally boils out and Eva is so bitter that he doesn't understand. He couldn't possibly understand her actions, how she feels. Daryl can make incredibly bright insights, notice a thousand things where she saw two, put pieces together and act, and he doesn’t know how invaluably capable he is.

“Why did you take us with you?” She can’t keep the anger out of her voice.

Daryl scowls. “You think I’d leave a woman and a kid-”

“I don’t. I know you wouldn’t. That’s why I’m with you.”

Daryl scoffs. “I know that’s why you came with me, but you’ve got options now.”

Eva thinks about telling him that she hates relying on him as much as he hates letting her. She swallows it down.

“And I’m choosing you. You’re not gonna kick us out or leave us behind. You would have already.”

He’d left those things for them at his cabin. He’d taken them with him. He’d picked up a fucking _car_ for them. The hiking boots. Those things make Eva hate him enough to want him dead, fucking eaten in his sleep. She breathes in. Out.

“You should be sleeping in the explorer.”

Daryl looks appalled, and Eva would think it was funny if she wasn’t too full of fury for the emotion. She forces it down.

“I’m not offering to fuck you. You’re the one that said it wasn’t safe to sleep in a tent. Keep an eye on Luna for a second, I need to talk to Lori.”

Eva ends the conversation by stalking off before she gives in to the urge to strangle him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The unnamed, unreferenced background characters at the Atlanta Refugee Camp really bug me. How many are there? Are they all working together or do they have distinct groups? Why were they even necessary?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Split POV-  
> warnings in the end notes

About a week after they come to the quarry, the tenuous peace the people there have strung together falls apart completely when Lori brings up the idea of going into the city.

“Our priority is keeping people safe.”

“How safe is it when people’s rashes get infected and we start seeing the effects of malnutrition?”

“You’re not going to need proper nutrients if your dead.”

“People can’t live like this.”

“You can’t live like this? Risk your own life.”

“ _No one_ should be risking their lives.”

“It’s crazy.”

“Supplies are running out.”

“I’ll go.”

“No one is going-”

Eva has only really gotten to know Jacqui, the two sisters, and the other moms. The camp is split into a few loose groups, with Dale acting like a nucleus with his RV and Shane acting as a sort of de facto leader with his boy scout, cop, I'm-the-authority attitude. Merle and Daryl keep to themselves unless Merle is needling other members of the camp. 

Eva likes Lori. She can relate to the constant stress vibes she puts off and appreciates that the woman has put together some sort of structure for the kids by having them read and do basic math in the mornings. Eva really wishes she hadn’t brought her idea up for a pseudo town hall.

She heads to the explorer with Luna before things can get even more heated and knocks on the side of the truck in hello, where Daryl is lying on his back, eyes fixed on the stars. His narrow eyes turn to her.

“Anything worth hearing?”

Eva snorts.

Daryl sits up to come to the explorer with them. The awkward tension has lessened since the first night they'd slept with Luna tucked against her chest and Daryl across from her. When Eva drifts off, she doesn't dream.

Eva talks to Glenn for the first time the next morning. He scares the shit out of her by walking up from the road when she's alone at the truck.

“Hey, Eva, right?” Eva lets her hand drop from the knife and _breathes_. She hadn’t realized how safe she had begun to feel until she didn’t anymore.

“Could I get some water?”

Shane doesn’t look like he knows whether to be pissed off or impressed when Glenn tells them that he has supplies in the car, but had run out of gas two miles back.

The only reason Eva had even recognized Glenn was was because T-Dog spent most of his time trying to coax the guy out of depression and Jacqui was close to T-Dog. The whole daring mission to the heart of darkness things feels like it came really out of left field. 

Glenn stops by the truck later that night, after being welcomed home a conquering hero. Merle cuts him off before he can speak.

“What you want, Chinaman?” Glenn's mouth opens, closes. A flush rises in his cheeks.

Eva’s stomach sinks.

He chooses to ignore Merle, and Eva wonders if he knows how dangerous that is.

“Hi, I’m Glenn. We met back when you guys came, but I know you’ve all been meeting and, uh-” he’s looking to the left of Eva’s ear.

Daryl cuts Glenn off. “Spit it out.”

Glenn flinches and holds out a black, plastic brush. “Lori told me you don’t have a hairbrush.”

Eva wishes that she could disappear. Like they all would. She grabs it.

“Thank you. Have a good night.”

Glenn’s eyes flick from Eva to Daryl and Merle.

“Best be on your way, boy.”

Eva forces herself to smile.

“Uh, goodnight.” Glenn mumbles before slinking off.

When Glenn makes another trip and comes back with a backpack full of pads and tampons, one of the women kisses him straight on the mouth. After that, Glenn is the most popular guy in camp. He avoids Merle and Daryl, but he still smiles at Eva when she's away from them. Eva hates him a little for it.

DARYL

The kid’s footsteps are as silent as his- not quite as impressive when taking into account that she weighed about three times less than him. Despite the fall heat of the morning, she’s wearing the raincoat her mom insists keeping her in. Two neon hairbands are visible on the back of her head- the woman had braided two pieces of the kid's hair to keep it out of her face. They are far enough from the cam that the woods are humming with sounds- bird calls, the buzz of cluster flies, a squirrel chittering at another up a tree. Her head moves back and forth, no reaction to the mouthy rodent.

It had taken a month for the kid to get him to take her hunting. The kid asks Merle for shit all the time, but hasn’t asked Daryl for anything since he’d refused to give her mom a piggy back ride. Daryl isn’t sure if he or the mom is more unsettled by the chatty relationship that Merle and the kid have developed.

After the first night at the quarry, Merle had seemed to accept the mom and kid as allies against the rest of the refugees there. The way he looked at her hadn’t changed though, and it made Daryl’s skin crawl. 

He hates being in the little camp city that refugees have constructed. Hates the constant tension between Walsh and Merle, like dogs with their hackles raised about to snap. Hates seeing the quiet little girl and her mousy mom with that fat fuck looming in the background. Hates the camper's disgusted looks. Hates the curious ones. Hates the ones that are soft the most, like he's a fucking puppy dog. The blonde little sister makes him viscerally uncomfortable to be around. He prefers the sister's curled lip. Out by the road- the campers seem to give them a wide berth, like they've staked their territory, but their eyes still follow him. With the mom and kid there, he feels like a tethered dog, incapable of going more than a couple miles out from camp.

The kid’s mom had convinced Daryl to let the kid skin a rabbit under her instruction and his supervision after she had gotten comfortable with the process. Kid’s a fast learner. When she was learning to use a knife, she’d followed her mom’s careful instructions with quiet focus, despite the excitement that had thrummed off her. She’d aped the way Daryl walked without any instruction at all. The kid doesn’t ask Daryl for anything, but the mom is constantly on his case. “Could you show me how to take care of a gun?” “Do you need anything washed?” “Could you hang around camp for a minute while I take a shower?” “Could you take Luna to the woods today? She’s been feeling cooped up.”

The mom asks all of this from him, who doesn't owe her anything, with a pissed off expression. Like he should be predicting her every need and is trying to irritate her by not hopping to before she asks. And even when he spits out a refusal, somehow he ends up doing it.

Daryl shoots the loudmouth, and then the one that it was yelling at. The kid gasps.

“Didn’t hear them chattering away?”

The kid bounces a little on her toes. “You told me to watch for tracks!”

Daryl huffs. “Did I tell you to turn off your ears? Your nose?”

“You can smell them?!”

The corner of his lip pulls up involuntarily.

“No. Wana grab our loot?”

“This one is _black_. Squirrels can be _black?_ ”

He doesn’t feel annoyed by the noise, like he does when Merle insist on coming with him. He feels-

When they get back, the mom is stretching with the little sister in front of the RV. The little sister falls over when she tries to balance on one leg and both of the women laugh. Merle must off harassing one of the women at camp or maybe in his drug tent, else he’d be ogling. The mom grins at them, when the kid bounds over. At her kid and then at Daryl. She has dimples just like her kid.

He mostly hates that the people here are normal. Decent, like the mom and her kid. Even Walsh. And he- _Dixons_ \- will never belong in that. Normalcy.

They walk back over to the truck, and Daryl sets his crossbow down. The crossbow is like hunting. The kid is bursting with curiosity, but keeping it in. Biding her time. Daryl frowns. The draw weight on the old crossbow, packed in a bag in the truck bed behind them, is 150. The kid is toned from running around all day, swinging in trees, trying to walk on her hands, but-

Daryl hears the boy’s feet scuffing before Luna looks up and greets him.

“Mr. Dixon, could you please show me how to skin one of the squirrels?”

“No.”

The boy pouts. “Why not?”

“Fuck off, Pig Jr. Go back to your momma.”

The boy’s big blue eyes widen and flush rises in his cheek before he spins on his heel. The feeling of peace of something he can’t name is gone. Daryl scoffs.

“Hey!” His kid sounds pissed. “That was mean.”

Daryl raises his eyebrows at her, incredulous. The mom is very still next to her, but the kid continues, undaunted.

“Why did you say that to Carl?”

Daryl scoffs. “I’m mean.”

The kid’s nose crinkles and she crosses her arms.

“No you’re not. You need to apologize.” She sounds each syllable of the longer word out.

Daryl mirrors her stance, heart beating strangely fast. “Why’s that?”

“Because you need to when you hurt someone’s feelings.”

Daryl can’t articulate why he lets her grab his hand and march him over to where the boy is sniveling to his mother. The boy looks at him with huge eyes. Daryl ducks his head.

“I’m sorry kid. Shouldn’ta called you that.”

The eyes go wider, and even though he’s deliberately not trying to look, he can see the boy’s mom’s lips slack and then press together. Suppressing a smile. Or laughter. The boy’s mom puts a hand on her kid’s head. Daryl can feel the tips of his ears burn.

“Uh, that’s okay.”

“I can show you how once I get better.” His kid chirps brightly. “Or my mom can, she’s the one that showed me!”

The boy smiles and Daryl feels- too much. The kid’s hand is still gripping his. Tiny and soft, but for a few callouses on her palm.

“It looks like Eva is calling you two- Luna, Daryl.”

Daryl can’t bring himself to respond to the boy’s mom, and lets himself get pulled back the truck. The mom is looking at him with an expression that-

“I’m gonna go down to the quarry, see if I can track down Merle.”

One of the women who lived in a house they’d stayed at had a baby. The thing had been barely a couple months old and the mom had been a mess. Her parents had kicked her out when they found out about the pregnancy and she’d moved in with her dealer. Her parents had been abusive- always ragging on her. Daryl knew all of this because the woman had told him.

They’d stayed there about a month and when they left, Daryl had felt-

Sometimes it’s like there’s a wall between his mind and reality. Or like he’s an empty shell, programmed by someone or something else to eat, sleep, talk.

Numb

A couple days later, he’d gotten stumbling drunk and decided to put out a lit cigarette out on his arm. He’d cried and cried and cried. And he doesn’t know why. It doesn’t matter.

Daryl finds Merle when the sun is just starting to sink above the mountain. He’s drunk. Daryl had found him a quarter mile out of camp, surprised that he hadn’t been in his tent.

Alcohol is not Merle’s substance of choice. He drinks, sure, but to get wasted? He prefers oxy, meth, heroin, X. He used to make fun of Daryl for smoking weed. Out of the two of them- Daryl was the one more likely to get drunk. But he hadn't. Not since he was at that drug house before all of this began. 

“Hey brother. I’ve been thinking its about passed time we lit outta here.”

Daryl’s stomach drops. 

“I thought you said there was safety in numbers.”

Merle scoffs. “We’re Dixons. Don’t need nobody else. What’re we sticking around here for anyway? The squirrels? I’m sick of that fucker Walsh. Nosing around everybody’s business. Like he knows anything about anything. Fucking pussy ass boy scout mother fucker.” Merle snorts. “Literally. He is without a doubt porking that thin woman.”

Daryl tunes out his brother’s slurred rambling.

“I’m not gonna argue about Walsh man, but let’s talk about it in the morning.”

“Talk about it in the morning, huh? I know you. I know you Daryl. You’re mine. My kin. We got the same blood, even if you came out a pussy.” Merle laughs. “You think I’m gonna forget all about this in the morning, that this is just some crazy idea I had. No sir. I shoulda put a stop to it way sooner, I saw the signs. Bambi’s little taquito’s got you wrapped all around her little finger.”

“Stop calling her that.”

The words finally come out of his mouth. The ones that have been burning every time he hears that fucking nickname, conjuring images of dark, terrified eyes.

“-That sweet domestic candy cane crap, well I’ve got news for you, son.”

It's like he hadn't spoken.

Merle shoves his shoulder, and Daryl let’s himself step back, knees bent. Ready. He remembers why he used to drink. He hates drunk people.

“That’s not us. Playing house. We ain’t built for it. You’re trash. That’s all you are to people like them. She’s just using you.”

It ~~shouldn't~~ doesn't hurt. Daryl already knows all of this. Merle puts his hand roughly on his shoulder. His breath is foul.

“I won’t let her. It’s you and me, brother. We’re gonna leave and Bambi will be geek chow.”

There’s a yawning gap in his chest, and Daryl just breathes for a minute. Before the dead started walking, when he felt so full of pent up _something_ Daryl would leave. Just exist in the woods for a while. But Daryl never felt the way he has the past month before. He feels like a stranger in his own skin.

“Come on, let’s get back to camp. It’s gonna be dark soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More racism! Also canon typical self harm and abuse. Merle loves his brother with all his heart, but his heart is small and twisted. Drug addiction also makes people incredibly self centered and erratic.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where's my brother?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Checked out the timeline on https://walkingdead.fandom.com/ (Thanks EpitomeofShyness) and it makes no sense, so I am mostly going to be ignoring it. We're at "Days Gone By" and if some dialogue is looking familiar, that's because it's from the show.

EVA

“It’s a _risk_ sending more men.”

“It’s a risk for Glenn, he's constantly risking his ass for us. And man, it’s not your decision.”

T-Dog is usually pretty quiet, but he and Morales had gotten into it with Shane that morning.

“Look, I’m just trying to look out for the group-”

“Right, so am I. Glenn deserves to have someone watching his back-”

“I’m actually alright on my own-”

“This is a way to provide for our families-”

Lori is scowling at Shane from where she’s sitting with Eva and Carol. Eva had noticed Lori getting increasingly frustrated by Shane’s "leadership" choices. The man's priorities are clear- keeping Lori and Carl safe. Lori thinks that can be done while helping other people. Their conversations make Eva feel on edge- she thinks Lori is right, and Shane is an asshole, but deep down she is the same as Shane. She thinks Lori is self righteous and hates her a bit for it, but she hates herself and Shane more. 

This morning is particularly bad with Daryl gone. She's always more anxious when Daryl is hunting, but Daryl had slept in his tent last night, citing that he wanted to get up early to hunt a deer he’s seen tracks for. He’d never slept in the tent before, when he got up at the crack of dawn.

“Where’s my brother?”

Like her thoughts have summoned him, Merle is there. Eva full body flinches when he grabs her on the arm. His pupils are fuzzy. They aren’t pin pricks and they aren’t dilated so that the blue of his iris is only a sliver around them.

“I haven’t seen him. I think he went out hunting early.” The man’s eyes narrow.

Eva feels a shiver go down her spine. She can see his attention shift to the argument happening by the RV, and it’s like a storm passing overhead. In the time she’s gotten to know the Merle, she’s seen him on uppers and downers and probably a combination of both, but he seems more dangerous now. Verging on unhinged.

Carol is wringing her hands in a way that seems subconscious and Eva can see Lori’s muscles relax. Lori’s eyes flicker to her, and she opens her mouth to say something before closing it.

Some of Eva’s anxiety lifts when Merle, in a move that seems to shock everyone into not questioning it, insists on joining the group heading into Atlanta. Eva isn’t very surprised that Andrea decides to go- despite the protests of her sister and Dale- but she doesn’t expect Jacqui to go with them as well.

She doesn’t like the idea of this group with Merle in a city overrun with geeks, but Miranda is devastated. The camp feels quiet- empty- even with other campers puttering around. Amy is pacing and Miranda is hovering anxiously by the radio. Eva has taken over supervision of Louis while Carol watches over Sophia and Eliza.

There are two commotions by the radio- first, when a stranger is heard through the line. The man can't hear Amy's response. A week ago, a couple had joined the campsite after trying to find refuge into Atlanta. A few more people had trickled in, fleeing from their homes to a place they remembered vacationing at. Aside from them, the man was the only outside contact they'd had.

Eva is running the kids through the exercises from her cross country days to try and burn some of their energy off when there is the second commotion by the radio.

Eva gets over in time to hear Amy call Shane a bastard. Eliza is tucked into Miranda’s side, and there are tears in her eyes. Louis runs over.

Eva looks to Dale, the man's heavy eyebrows pulled down.

“What’s going on?”

“That was T-Dog on the radio.” He looks grim. “He said they’re trapped.”

Eva’s stomach drops. She may not have any love for Merle, but those were good people. Kind, brave people. She puts a hand on Miranda’s shoulder, and Miranda leans her head down. Eva swallows. States the facts.

“Glenn has been in and out of Atlanta multiple times. They might still make it.”

Eva brings Miranda back to their tent and helps her keep an eye on the kids.

For a second, she thinks the car alarm is an ambulance siren. Like all the other times, Glenn had made it.

Shane is still patronizing the guy for creating such a racket when a U-Haul pulls up. Merle jumps out of the back first.

“Bambi! My brother back yet?”

Andrea gets out of the truck and the families reunite with relieved exclamations. Eva smiles, almost glad to see the older Dixon despite his wavy pupils and the mania that is practically radiating off him.

“He’s still hunting.”

Merle smirks at her and opens his arms. “Where’s my warm welcome?”

Luna runs to him before Eva can stop her. The man laughs and spins her around.

T-Dog shakes his head.

“I’m not a violent person, but that man makes it hard to not punch him in the face.”

Merle opens his mouth, but gets distracted by Carl before he can respond.

“Dad! Dad!” The boy races toward the car and Eva sees an unfamiliar man collapse to meet his embrace. He picks the kid up and clutches Lori to them both.

“Well I’ll be goddamned.”

Turns out, Lori’s husband was not as dead as advertised.

Eva feels dread curl down her spine when Merle brings her and Luna over to Dale’s campfire, where the people who had been on the run are congregating. Lori smiles at her and waves her over. Her husband’s eyes remain fixed to Merle. He looks like a cat- like a mountain lion. Content to watch for now, but ready to spring into violent action.

“I wanted to congratulate you on reuniting with your family. That is no small feat in this day and age.”

Merle holds out a hand to Lori’s husband.

The man doesn’t move from where he has his wife and kid tucked against him.

“I owe an apology to all y’all on that run on account of my poor behavior. I think the stress of being in the city must have got to me.”

T-Dog snorts. “Right.”

“You got something to say?”

T-Dog glances at Luna. “Nah, man. Sit down.”

The tension deflates like a slow exhale. But sitting next to Merle at that campfire, the tension in Eva's chest remains.

Daryl gets back the next morning, while Eva is trying to sort through her and Luna's clothes.

“Eva! Kid! Got us some squirrels."

Daryl seems to have gotten over what had made him so distant. It still bothers her that the sound of his voice makes her feel immediately safer, but Eva doesn't hate him the way she used to. That impotent rage doesn't mix as disconcertingly with her relief at having him there. 

"Where’s my brother?” 

“He’s sleeping.” Eva had seen him when she got up earlier, passed out in the cab of the truck.

Daryl snorts and seems to decide to leave him to it. He turns to Luna.

“You ready to skin these yourself?”

Shane and the new cop, Rick, come over to their little campfire after they’ve eaten. Daryl has set aside a portion for Merle and Luna is with the other kids for Lori's little school group.

“Daryl?” The man puffs up like a cat. “This is Rick Grimes. He’s my partner from King’s County.”

“What, you want me to bake a casserole?”

Shane- who'd looked pissed off to begin with- bristles, but Rick seems to take the comment in stride. He's wearing a pristine, too large white shirt and pressed jeans. Eva knows Carol is responsible. Middle of the apocalypse and the woman has an old fashioned iron and ironing board. They've spent plenty of time together, but Eva still feels oddly like they are from two unreconcilable worlds.

“Shane told me you’re a hunter. I’m guessing you know how to use that bow pretty well. I could use your help.” There’s a beat of awkward silence. “I had a bag of guns in Atlanta. Ended up having to leave it behind, but it seems to me like we could use them here.”

Daryl chews on his thumbnail and she can see his eyes flick over her and the kid, Merle’s tent, Dale on top the RV. “What’s your plan?”

“Glenn said that adding more people didn’t end up helping before. It’ll be us three. There’s no reason to wait: we’d leave now, as soon as possible.”

“Daryl spent the last two days hunting.” Eva doesn’t realize she's spoken until everyone’s eyes are on her.

Daryl scoffs. “Girl, I’m fine.” His eyes flicker to the truck, where Merle hasn't moved.

Luna hugs him before he leaves. It's the first time Eva has seen them touch. Daryl is frozen as she buries her head in his stomach. His hands are held out awkwardly.

Eva grimaces. "Come back."

He looks at her, narrow eyes wide, and then grunts in affirmation.

"Course."

When Rick leaves, Lori is about ready to jump out of her own skin. She stalks off to find good sticks for kindling after leaving Carl with Eva. Eva can't really imagine how she feels- her husband miraculously returns and then goes straight back into imminent danger. Eva has the whole group today- Miranda and Juan are taking the morning for themselves and Carol is with some of the other women, dong laundry. It's a beautiful sunny morning. 

Soon after Lori leaves, Shane takes Carl to the quarry. Carl had been quiet and reserved, but he lights up at the sight of the other man. Luna is extremely jealous, but concedes with a little cajoling (“Why don’t you ask next time sweetheart? I think today they need a little Shane and Carl time”). 

Eliza is almost through reading them a chapter from _Matilda_ when Lori gets back. She waits until Eliza pauses at the end of the chapter.

"Where's Carl?"

Luna answers "He's catching frogs!"

For a split second, Lori looks furious. Eva's stomach sinks.

"I'm sorry Lori, I didn't think it would be a problem." Lori waves her hand.

"It's- next time- Rick and I are Carl's parents. Just check with me next time."

Eva nods. When Lori had thought her husband was dead, Shane had essentially been Carl's co-parent. Eva would have considered being in a coma as good as dead, but she has a feeling Lori doesn't see it that way.

Sophia is reading when Carol and Ed come back. Ed's face is horrifically beaten.

"Matilda started to go with them, but as she passed Miss Honey she paused and her...t-w-ink-l- twinkling eyes met the teacher's eyes and Miss Honey ran..."

Eva hears the crunch of footsteps. Merle stands a step behind her, looming and whistles low.

"Someone finally laid the bastard out, huh?"

Eva turns to face him and Sophia's eyes jump up from the page. She freezes when she sees her Mom trailing her Dad's angry stalking to their tent. Eva curses internally.

“There’s stew in the pot for you.” Merle raises his eyebrows.

“Where’s my brother?” A shiver rakes down her spine.

“He went to Atlanta with Rick and Glenn.” 

"Did he?" Merle's eyes are dark, but thankfully, he leaves. Eva swallows, stifles her curiosity, and turns back to the kids- who are watching her with wide eyes.

“Thank you for reading, Sophia. Let's finish tomorrow. Have you guys ever played the number game? I’m thinking of a number between one and a hundred. I’m gonna tell Sophia, so it’s fair.”

Sophia looks at Carol with wide eyes when she comes to get her daughter. Carol just holds her daughter to her chest. She swallows.

"Thank you for looking after her."

Eva smiles, awkward. "It was my pleasure. Sophia is more of a help than anything."

Carol hesitates. 

"Could you look at him?"

Eva digs her nails into her thigh.

"Would he let me?"

Carol's face crumples and Eva doesn't know what to do.

"I'm sorry," she adds, uselessly.

"It's- it's fine. We'll be fine."

In _Matilda_ , none of the teachers stand up to the abusive Headmistress, and no one helps Ms. Honey until Matilda, her young, superpowered student.

Eva sees Shane walk into camp, and he looks wrung out. He heads to his tent, avoiding the eyes of all the people staring at him. Just like Ed had.

"Shane." It's the first time Eva has ever addressed him directly. "Do you want me to wrap your hand?"

He stares at her like she's speaking gibberish and Eva regrets approaching him.

"It's not a good time to get an infection."

She can see him visibly pull himself together, and then he nods. "Please."

Shane seems uncomfortable with their silence. After she's disinfected his hand, he starts talking.

"I know I shouldn't have done it." Eva sees the frustration in his face- there since Rick Grimes had returned. Since Lori kicked him out of her good graces.

"Why? You didn't break your knuckles. You'll be good as new in a couple weeks." Even if Shane had just been venting his own frustration, Ed deserved every punch. It's like she hadn't spoken.

"I'm not _violent_ like that. I can be a hothead, and I've gotten into my share of fights, but-" He trails off, staring at his hand as Eva wraps one of her torn cloths around it.

"Stress like this, what's happening now, it's changed me too." Eva can't believe she just said that out loud. She doesn't trust Shane, doesn't even _like_ him, but-

“If I’d been in a coma? I would thank my brother for taking Luna. For anything he said or did to keep her safe."

And Eva _does_ like Lori. Even if Lori makes her feel like a monster sometimes. She tucks the makeshift bandage neatly.

"It's obvious Rick feels the same way. Give Lori time.”

Shane's eyes are wide when they meet hers, and when she moves her hands away, he grabs them in his. They are a lot bigger than hers. Stronger. And Eva is abruptly very, very afraid.

“It wasn’t- it wasn’t like she thinks it was.”

He squeezes his eyes shut. Squeezes her hands.

"The hospital- I went to get him- he was my partner, I _loved_ him- when they stopped the evac I don't know- the military was there and they were shooting- _everyone_ \- patients, staff, they weren't bit, they just- and Rick was on life support. He was lying in that bed like he had been _month_ and I hadn't thought about the life support-" He gasps an inhale.

Eva thinks a bout her Aunt and cousin, heading to the hospital. Her brother. Her parents. She can't help it.

"I made a call. I left him for dead."

The sun is bright above them when Andrea and Amy return with a truly impressive amount of grey fish.

Eva nudges Luna. "You don't want to learn how to fish?" 

Luna crinkles her nose. "Fish is gross! And it seems boring."

Dale drags half the group off to talk to Jim. Eva can hear raised voices, and she holds on to Luna's arm to keep her from following. When Shane drags him back and ties him to a tree, sweat pouring down his face, Eva sends her over to the Morales' and Jacqui. 

"Do you think you could take a look at him?" Dale asks.

"Could you get some water? Carol, do you have anything sweet? And some salt?"

Eva ignores her discomfort at holding he water bottle to Jim's lips, and then a can of salty peach juice, as Shane crouches down next to her. Jim thanks her, but Eva only scowls in response and stands back.

"Feeling better?" Shane asks, voice kind. 

"Yeah. How long you gonna keep me like this?"

"Until I don't think that you're a danger to yourself or others."

"Sorry if I scared your boy and your little girl." Jim is talking to Lori and Carol a few feet away.

"You had sunstroke. Nobody's blaming you."

"You're not scared now, are you?"

Sophia's reply is soft, but clear. "No sir."

The hair raises on the back of Eva's neck. She had heard the man earlier, with his voice raised. _That is their marriage._

"Your mama's right. Sun just cooked my head is all."

"Jim, do you know why you were digging? Can you say?" Dale asks.

"I had a reason. Don't remember. Something I dreamt last night." He looks at Carl. "Your dad was in it. You were too. You were worried about him. Can't remember the rest. You worried about your dad?"

Carl glances up at his mom. "They're not back yet."

"We don't need to talk about that."

"Your dad's a police officer, son. He helps people. Probably just came across some folks needing help, that's all. That man, he is tough as nails. I don't know him well, but I could see it in him. Am I right?"

"Oh yeah," Shane affirms.

"There ain't nothing gonna stop him from getting back here to you and your mom, I promise you that."

Shane exhales. "All right. Who wants to help me clean some fish, huh?"

Eva relaxes when she realizes that Shane means to leave him tied to the tree for now, and moves to find Luna. 

Dale stops her to thank her for looking at Jim. Eva shrugs a shoulder. She hadn't done anything any other member of their camp wouldn't have known to do.

"He's a good man." Dale says. "I can't imagine what he's going through."

A good man. Eva _can_ imagine what he's going through. What they are all going through. It's made her bitterly pragmatic and she knows she's not the only one who has or will change for the worst when more pressure gets added.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Divergence- Knowing that Merle is with Eva and Luna, T-Dog has more patience with his racist bullshit. Instead of chaining him to the roof, Rick just takes his gun. T-Dog does not join the return trip to Atlanta because he doesn’t feel responsible.
> 
> I deeply regret naming OC Amy, so I've renamed her Eva :/


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've changed the OC's name to "Eva" sorry lol. At first, I thought it would be funny to explore how the characters distinguish them, but it was just bad.

Jacqui and T-Dog stop by the explorer to bring Eva and Luna over to Dale's campfire. The sun is a few fingers above the mountain and it's a beautiful end to a beautiful day. Luna hesitates.

“Should we wake up Mr. Merle?”

T-Dog groans. “Please don’t.”

Eva laughs. “We’re gonna let him rest, sweetheart.”

"They're back!" Shane calls from on top of the RV.

Eva can see her relief and joy reflected in T-Dog and Jacqui's faces.

Lori and Carl are with them by the time the U-Haul stops, Shane lurking behind them.

"Thank God," Lori says, into her husband's shoulder. "If you didn't come back I'd've had to go find and kill you myself." 

Eva smiles at Daryl and ruffles Luna's hair to have something to do with her hands.

Daryl smirks at her, and Eva thinks it's the first time she's seen anything approaching a happy expression on his face. He looks like a different person.

"Told ya I'd be back." Eva's chest swells, and she can feel her smile brighten.

“Come on, you racist asshole. Eat some fish,” Glenn calls from where he's walking with T-Dog to the RV.

Maybe more shocking than coming back from a trip to Atlanta with a bag of guns and ammo, is that Daryl comes back on friendly terms with Rick and Glenn.

He sits behind her at the campfire, next to Glenn. Luna is sitting in her lap, head over her shoulder to listen to Glenn explain something about video games to Daryl. The fish is disgusting- Luna came by her distaste naturally- Luna is digging an elbow painfully into her ribs, the fire is creating a little too much heat against her shins, and Eva is so _content_.

"I've got to ask you, man." Juan starts, looking at Dale. "It's been driving me crazy."

"What?"

"That watch."

"What's wrong with my watch?"

"I see you every day, the same time, winding that thing like a village priest saying mass."

Jacqui chimes in. "I've wondered this myself."

"I'm missing the point."

Jacqui explains, "Unless I've misread the signs, the world seems to have come to an end." She smiles. "At least hit a speed bump for a good long while."

Juan continues- "But there's you every day winding that stupid watch."

"Time. It's important to keep track, isn't it?" Dale raises his hands, clearly pleased to be asked. "The days at least. Don't you think, Andrea? Back me up here." Andrea just raises her eyebrows, eyes flicking to her sister and back.

"I like- I like what- um- a father said to son when he gave him a watch that had been handed down through generations. He said, 'I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire, which will fit your individual needs no better than it did mine or my father's before me; I give it to you not that you may remember time, but that you may forget it for a moment now and then and not spend all of your breath trying to conquer it.'"

There's a long silence before Amy breaks it. "You are so weird."

Everyone laughs.

"It's not me. It's Faulkner. William Faulkner. Maybe my bad paraphrasing." 

Amy gets up, playfully annoyed when Andrea has her announce to the group that she need the toilet.

Eva thinks about Dale's Faulkner quote. Was it saying to live in the moment? Wouldn't that be the opposite of keeping track of time? Or was it just about how hopes and desires were inevitably lost by waiting for the right moment, or maybe waiting for things to happen in the future, one doesn't-

"We're out of toilet paper."

The geek is pulling her arm to its mouth. Eva feels like she's watching the scene on the tv. Like she's not there. She hadn't been there when Javi got a chunk bit out of his shoulder, gushing red, and as she held a towel to his shoulder he'd told her-

An arrow goes through the geek's forehead before it can take a bite out of Amy's neck. Eva can feel her body again. She scoops Luna into her arms.

“Help me get her to the RV!”

There is gunfire and shouting, screaming. Andrea collapses next to her sister and Eva makes a split second decision to hold Luna up to the ladder on the back of the RV. She hears a swish of displaced air and meaty thud and Luna wheezes. Eva turns to see a corpse fall a yard from them, arrow through its head. Jim is bashing the head of another one with a bat.

“Come on, Monkey, climb.”

When her daughter is peering down, Eva turns back to the side of the RV.

“Mommy?”

“Stay there, sweetheart!”

The camp is chaos, but Eva tunes it out and gets into the RV. Amy has fainted on the couch, Andrea panicking next her, hands bloody over her arm. "What do I do? I don't know what to do!"

Eva pulls her belt off, fumbling with the knife and pulls it tightly, just above Amy's elbow. The wound is awful, wider than Eva's hand. 

Eva turns the hot water tap on in the bathroom. and scrubs her hands with the bar of soap, then does the same with the hand towel. The water stings as it runs over her hands, burns her palms as she wrings it out.

She moves Andreas hands out of the way and puts the cloth over the gaping wound. Amy whimpers. She needs to get her first aid kit out of the car.

“Press that there. Hard as you can.”

GLENN

"Is she going to turn?"

Glenn doesn't want to be part of this conversation. He doesn't want last night to have happened. He doesn't want the past month to have happened. 

The survivors of the attack are grouped in front of the RV. Andrea is inside with her sister and Merle is sitting on top. Glenn is too exhausted to even consider being worried about it. Eva had driven her car closer to the center of camp and cajoled all the kids into sleeping inside.

Dawn is just starting to break, and none of them have slept except for Jim, who had passed out in his tent after the shooting had stopped.

"I don't know. I'm not a medical professional." Eva looks about as bad as Glenn feels. Maybe, impossibly, worse.

Shane sighs. "You're the closest thing we've got. What do you think her chances are?"

"I _don't know_."

Rick looks pensive. "What if we can get her help? I heard the CDC was working on a cure."

"I heard that too. Heard a lot of things before the world went to hell," Shane says.

"What if the CDC is still up and running?" Rick asks.

"Man, that is a stretch right there."

"Why? If there's any government left, any structure at all, they'd protect the CDC at all costs, wouldn't they? I think it's our best shot. Shelter, protection…"

"Okay, Rick, you want those things, all right? I do too, okay? Now if they exist, they're at the army base. Fort Benning."

Lori cuts in, "That's 100 miles in the opposite direction."

"That is right. But it's away from the hot zone. Now listen to me. If that place is operational, it'll be heavily armed. We'd be safe there."

"What about Amy?" Dale asks.

"We don't know that she's even going to turn." "We don't know that she won't-" "No fucking way there's a cure-"

"Look." Somehow, Rick gets everyone to be silent without even raising his voice. "The military were on the front lines of this thing. They got overrun. We've all seen that. The CDC is our best choice and Amy's only chance."

Shane exhales heavily. "Either way, we need to clear these bodies."

"And make sure none of them come back." Daryl's drawl makes Glenn jump. He hadn't heard him approach.

"We shouldn't be shooting. Can't risk bringing another hoard down on us." Morales has an arm around Miranda, and Glenn feels a strong pang of envy.

There are so many bodies. Familiar- even with their _heads burst from a pickaxe_ and unfamiliar. Some of them fall apart as they lift them into the truck. Glenn is able to work through it until he finds Jaime- who had kissed him on the mouth when he came back from his second run. 

Glenn flinches at the hand on his shoulder, until he sees T-Dog's warm brown eyes.

"Hey man, are you okay?"

Glenn shakes his head, helplessly.

"Why don't you lie down for a minute?"

"I-" how could he, when Richard, Janine, Stacey were "-can't."

T-Dog leaves the hand on his shoulder for a minute.

"Why don't you go check on Amy and Andrea?"

Andrea is holding her sister's hand on the bed. Amy's eyes are closed and her arm is wrapped thickly in floral print. She looks normal, lying there. Beautiful and young and only a little bit pale. Andrea doesn't look up at his entrance.

"It's Amy's birthday. Today is her birthday." Andrea sounds broken.

Glenn swallows. "How old is she?"

"Twenty-four."

Michelle, his little sister's age. Was she still alive? or- He stands up, freezes. 

"I'm sorry."

Andrea doesn't respond as Glenn exits the RV. 

He'd felt so incredible, walking back into camp yesterday with Rick and Daryl. Triumphant, like he could take on anything.

T-Dog is dragging one of the walkers to the fire. Glenn lifts up his feet, nods at the other man. There are so many.

Daryl and Morales are lifting Jesse over to the fire. His exhaustion disappears.

"What are you guys doing? This is for geeks. Our people go over there."

"What's the difference? They're all infected."

Jesse had a grandmother in Michigan. His parents had grown up in the state and they stopped in Glenn's hometown once a year on their way to visit. 

"Our people go in that row over there. We don't burn them! We bury them. Understand? Our people go in that row over there."

Amy wakes up for the funeral. She says that she feels fine- except for her arm. At the funeral, her silky blonde hair is braided around her head like a crown, and her hand is in her sister's. Glenn's eyes are stuck on the mermaid pendant hanging on a gold chain around her neck. The living are silent around the graves. 

And when Merle breaks that silence, Glenn is too tired feel anything.

"Y'all reap what you sow."

"Excuse me?" 

"Hanging out like an all you can eat buffet. Keeping that girl around like she's not a ticking time bomb."

"You piece of shit!" Andrea is apoplectic, but Merle just laughs.

"Geek bait. Ain't that right, Bambi?"

"Step. Back." Rick's voice is icy. Merle swings the rifle off his shoulder.

"You think you can take my gun, tell me what to do, and I'll what. Roll over? You're gonna have to kill me."

Before anyone else can move, Daryl slams the back of his crossbow against his head. He scowls at Rick next to his brother's collapsed form.

"Help me get him into the truck."

Glenn grabs an arm. Up close he can see that Merle's skin is pasty white, and he's sweating heavily.

"What's wrong with him?"

Glenn doesn't realize he'd asked the question until Eva answers.

"Aside from being hit in the back of the head? I think he's starting to go into withdrawal."

T-DOG

T is tired enough that he sleeps without dreaming. In the morning, everything rushes back.

Andrea's sweet baby sister. All of those people in the ground. The smell of the decaying bodies and fresh gore.

He doesn't move until Jacqui comes to get him. The camp is bustling with activity, people packing up their things. Dixon and Eva's argument is loud enough to carry. The only things T owns are a backpack full of clothes and a tent- all things that other people at the camp had donated to him or Glenn had scavenged. He'd left Atlanta with nothing. Hadn't been _planning_ on leaving until there was napalm on the streets and Glenn was in his passenger seat. He'd thought it was a miracle. They are both still alive, but what kind of miracle left you felling like this?

"What you mean, you can't drive?" Dixon's voice carries.

"Do you really need two cars?"

"Stay out of it old man."

Dale raises both hands, but doesn't walk away. Eva and Dixon both look like they haven't slept since before the fish fry. Eva runs a hand over her face.

"I'm sorry, Daryl. I am. I need to stay with Amy."

Luna's face is tucked in to her mom's side. Dixon looks ready to tear his hair out, and T feels empathy for the man despite himself.

"We can take it for you." Dixon scoffs at him, and T braces himself for the racist bull shit he knows is going to come out of that mouth.

"Thank you." Eva cuts in before Dixon can, and hands him the keys. T can feel Jacqui's judgmental eyes on him.

"You said yourself that you can't do anything for that girl." Dixon's voice is low, clearly meant for Eva alone, but T knows he's not the only one there listening.

"Look, I'll be safer than you are in a car alone with Merle right now. That xanax should keep him out, but I wouldn't count on it. This entire thing is a risk- we just have to live with it."

Dixon scoffs, and he doesn't need to say "or not" for everyone to hear it.

Merle Dixon had been making comments since their odd group showed up at camp- getting on T's last nerve. World's ended and he had to put up with the same old shit. He wouldn't be- would have gotten into it with Merle, tried his best to knock his teeth out- except for Eva and her kid. Jacqui loved her. Jacqui really loved all of the moms at camp and their kids.

It's easy to see why some people write off a whole race of people- white devils- but T knows that that's not how it is. People are raised into biases, and Merle Dixon may see some humans as less equal than others, but that was irrelevant to the fact that he had a woman and a child partially dependent on him. And even inbred, weak-brained motherfuckers like Merle Dixon have people that love them. T is driving the truck to simplify Eva's troubles though, not for either Dixon.

When Shane gathers the survivors together and starts laying out how they'll be moving, T is surprised that Morales announces that he's taking his family to Birmingham instead. Jacqui looks devastated. T shakes his hand before they leave and sees little Eliza gives her doll to Sophia.

He feels oddly relieved to drive the Dixon's truck away from the camp, racist bike or no. Jacqui and Eva are in Dale's RV with Jim, Carol, Andrea and poor Amy; the kids are with Lori and Rick; Daryl is driving the explorer with his brother passed out in the backseat; and Shane is leading them in the front. They are down to seventeen people. 

With Glenn in the passenger's seat, they are leaving behind the camp where the people they lived with for months met nightmarish ends. Leaving behind the van he'd used to help bring people to evacuation centers where they would eventually be bombed by the people who were supposed to protect them.  
  


When the RV breaks down, Merle wakes up and starts yelling. T remembers the roof in Atlanta- no way will that piece of human garbage be happy he's driving his ride. Daryl yells back and when Jacqui steps out of the RV a minute later, and it's like nothing can go right.

"Y'all, Amy's fever is worse. She's getting delirious."

"Hey, Rick, you want to hold down the fort?" Shane asks. "I'll drive ahead, see what I can bring back.

"Yeah, I'll come along too and I'll back you up." T volunteers. He's been standing "on watch" with a gun he barely knows how to use. Not like he can help that poor girl, or Dale and Jim with the RV, though Glenn seems to be trying.

Luckily, Shane seems to know his way around cars. He grabs some parts and shows T how to siphon gas. It's an interesting skillset for a cop to have.

Somehow, they manage to make it into Atlanta without another major incident, but that is where their luck runs out.

T carries Amy. Merle leans on Daryl. None of the stinking corpses surrounding the building are moving.

The shutters are closed.

Amy is sweaty and warm in T's arms, mumbling nonsense under breath.

"There's nobody here," he says.

"Then why are these shutters down?" Rick's endless optimism.

"Walkers!"

Daryl hands his brother off to Jim, both men looking disgruntled, and shoots the closest one in the head.

Then, it's chaos, hissed arguments then raised. T doesn't want to die, but he resigns himself to try as hard as he can to get this dying girl back to the RV before he does.

It's like the lights are there behind the shutters to make him feel a fool for questioning his faith.

"Anybody infected?" The man is in a T-shirt, with a rifle. He's clean, freshly showered.

T steps forward, and Andrea moves in front of them, arms raised.

“My sister. Please, help her.”

“I can’t.”

They'd gotten her here. All this way.

“No, no.” Andrea shakes her head.

His eyes run over them all, flickering back to Andrea, to T and Amy. He steps forward and T feels all his muscles tense.

"I _can_ give her a more comfortable end. You all submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission."

"We can do that." Rick agrees for them all.

The man lowers his gun. "You got stuff to bring in, you do it now. Once this door closes, it stays closed."

" _Please_. Can't you _try_?"

Jenner just looks at her. "What do you think I stayed here for?"

He sticks to his price of admission and draws a vial of blood from all of them except for Amy and Merle. The less pleasant Dixon laughs maniacally when Jenner can't find a vein on his arm. The man's delirium is frighteningly similar to Amy's.

"Medical monkeys, trapped like rats underground, I told that fucker-" 

After, Jenner leads them to rooms, carrying an IV bag with a hanger. He helps set up a cot for T to put Amy down on, and hooks her up. Then he shows them a video of an _extraordinary brain._ Their entire group is crammed around the tiny screen in the room he'd put Amy in. He seems oddly put out to not show them on a bigger screen, but Andrea had refused to leave or move her sister. 

Jenner explains the lights, pulsing through the blue network.

"It's a person's life- experiences, memories. It's everything. Somewhere in all that organic wiring, all those ripples of light, is you- the thing that makes you unique. And human. Those are synapses, electric impulses in the brain that carry all the messages. They determine everything a person says does or thinks from the moment of birth to the moment of death."

T watches black veins crawl up from the stem of the brain. A shiver runs down his spine.

"It invades the brain like meningitis. The adrenal glands hemorrhage, the brain goes into shutdown, then the major organs. Then death. Everything you ever were or ever will be... Gone."

"This is what's happening to Amy?"

"Yes." He looks carefully into Andrea's eyes.

T can hear the kids crying.

"I know how devastating it is. The resurrection times vary wildly. We had reports of it happening in as little as three minutes. The longest we heard of was eight hours. In the case of this patient, it was two hours, one minute, even seconds."

If the black was bad, the red is terrifying, little lights flickering like embers.

"It restarts the brain?"

"No, just the brain stem. Basically, it gets them up and moving."

"But they're not alive?"

"You tell me."

"It's nothing like before. Most of that brain is dark."

"Dark, lifeless, dead. The frontal lobe, the neocortex, the human part- that doesn't come back. The you part. Just a shell driven by mindless instinct."

Something tears through that blue face, straight through the temple.

"What was that?"

"He shot his patient in the head." Andrea answers. "Didn't you?"

"You have no idea what it is, do you?"

"It could be microbial, viral, parasitic, fungal."

"Or the wrath of God?" Jacqui asks.

“Amy. Amy, I'm sorry." T stands outside of the door with Dale and Jacqui. They can hear her soft talking. "I'm sorry for not ever being there. I always thought there'd be more time. I'm here now, Amy. I'm here. I love you.”

Jenner brings them food and goes in to talk with her. Some miracle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Divergence- Since they don’t need to stop to find Merle, they are able to go straight for the guns, and don’t run into the nursing home crew. Everyone is back in time for the fish fry- Jim doesn't get bit, Amy is only bit on the arm. Also, idk what Merle is canonically supposed to be on, but I made one of those things heroin. I thought that Merle's empathizing with Andrea over the loss of their siblings was genuine, but heroin withdrawal does not empathetic make. 
> 
> I find the confrontation between Glenn and Daryl to be interesting. From Daryl's perspective, the walkers that attacked the camp are just infected people too. Also considering the fact that his mom burned to death, yikes. Glenn, on the other hand, knows and cares about most of theses people (unlike the viewers of the show lol)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that any triggering content in the show is fair game.

LORI

It was such a relief, when the shutters lifted, when Jenner ushered them in. For the first time since her husband was shot, Lori feels completely safe. It makes it just that much worse when he tells them there's nothing he can do for Amy. That this _thing_ is incurable.

They leave the room to give Andrea space to say goodbye to her sister. Jenner brings them into a cafeteria and provides them with a feast. It almost physically hurts to not be able to enjoy it. The rest of their group is muted as well. Jacqui, T-Dog and Dale stayed in the hall near Andrea and Amy. Daryl had settled his brother- thank the lord- into one of the meeting rooms. It leaves only Daryl, Jim, Ava, Luna, Carol, Sophia, Rick, Carl, her and Shane. 

There are so few of them left now.

Lori swallows and reaches for her husbands hand. He laces their fingers together, and Lori can feel the ring. A second chance. He told her that all he can guarantee is that he loves her.

But does she deserve it? And can he guarantee that when-

He'd forgiven her for her hateful words. Her bitchy attitude. All of her problems from before felt so goddamn ridiculous when she got Shane's call. So petty, so needy, so pathetic. And he still doesn't know-

"So when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, doc?" Shane breaks the silence.

"All the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, - where are they?"

Rick squeezes her hand. "Shane. We don't need to do this now."

"Whoa, wait a second. This is why we're here, right? This was your move- supposed to find all the answers. Instead we found him. Found one man. Why?"

Jenner looks at Shane evenly. "Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left. Went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted."

"Every last one?" Jenner glares.

"No, many couldn't face walking out the door. They _opted out_. There was a rash of suicides. That was a bad time."

She can't feel as awful as she did earlier with warm water pounding down on her, or with Rick, naked behind her. The bottle of wine Rick brings helps too. She loves him, she loves him, she loves him- it's so stupidly apparent now. 

When Rick leaves to talk to Jenner, Lori heads down to the rec room to check on Carl. Just one glass of wine had her tipsy. She'd noticed her breasts were a little swollen earlier and knows her period must be coming. It hasn't since this whole thing started, because of stress, but now...

She feels light. Floating, and head buzzing pleasantly. Carol is sitting on a couch, their kids are at a _table._ Clean, playing checkers. Lori can feel the stupid grin on her face.

"Any good books?"

There's an actual smile on Carol's face. Close mouthed and tired, but genuine. Luna is curled next to her on the couch, eyelids half closed. It's strange to see the girl without her mother hovering nearby. Eva was as protective as Lori, maybe more so. It shows a stark comparison, from the quarry to here.

"Enough to keep us busy for years." Carol gently nudges the dozing girl. "Alright, come on kids. Bed time."

Lori's eyes are fixed on the bookshelf. "Baby, go say your prayers. I'm gonna browse a bit."

"This is the first night we might actually get some real sleep. It's a miracle."

 _Enough to keep us busy for years_.

Then the door slams. It's Shane, and suddenly all her good feelings are gone. Buzzing head making her feels slow and stupid.

"Jesus, you scared me." His shirt is unbuttoned, there's a bottle in his hand, and aggression pours off him.

"I'm gonna tell you a few things and you're gonna listen to me." Just like he used to boss her around before- it frustrated the hell out of her then, when it was tempered by just how much he had done for them. How he made her feel _cared_ for. Back when she thought she might lo- Now? She half wanted to strangle him.

Lori looks back down at her book, but she can't make sense of the letters.

"Now is not the time."

"Come on. When is it ever the time?" Lori knows him, he won't let it go, so she needs to leave.

He steps in her path.

"How can you treat me like this?" Fury courses through her.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No. Huh-uh."

"Because you told me my husband was dead." Lori steps around him, determined to get out that door.

"I didn't lie to you, all right? I didn't. Do you know what it was like there?" Shane closes the door in front of her. Lori doesn't want to know, doesn't want to hear this. He _lied_ to her. His eyes are wide as when he'd picked them up to go to Atlanta. "Stop. Things were falling apart. They were slaughtering people in the hallways. It was a massacre. There were walkers everywhere."

"So you left him?"

"Everybody else ran. There were no doctors there. It was just me. He was hooked up to machines and I did not know what to do. I even took my ear and I put it on his chest and I listened for a heartbeat and I did not hear one. And I-" he stutters. "I don't know why. Maybe it was gunfire. I don't know what it was, but there was no way he could've survived that. No way."

Shane slams a fist against the door. And for the first time, Lori is afraid of him.

"He did." But that's ridiculous, it's _Shane._ She might be furious with him, but he would never hurt her.

"Yeah, but then I had y'all to think about, didn't I-" and Shane is crowding her back against a table. "I had you and Carl, and I needed to think about-"

Lori tries to talk, holds her hands up, tries to move forward- "I had to get you guys safe to Atlanta." he shoves her back. "That's what I had to do." Her toes, clad just in socks, are barely touching the floor. "Just stop. If you thought for one second that he was still alive, would you have come? "

Lori stills. She wouldn't have. And where would Carl be then?

"So I saved your life. You and your little boy's. That's what I did. Right?" Lori has never seen that look in his eyes before.

"Okay. And if I could've traded places with him, I would have. I would trade places with him right now because-"

Shane's hand is reaching up to her face, and suddenly, Lori can find words again.

"No no no. No. No no no, you-" her hands are pushing at his chest.

"I love you. Shh shh." His hand is cupping her jaw, palm hot on her throat.

"No. No, you're drunk." She can't be afraid of Shane.

"I love you.:

"No, you're drunk." She's not strong enough to move him

"And I know there were some things that say that you love me too." She's saying his name, but it's like she's not there, like she doesn't matter. Like her body's not under her control.

"Because there's no way that you could've been with me the way that you were." His hand is cupping her jaw, his face is-

_stop_

"Listen. You love me." His strong hands are reaching between her legs, holding her in place.

"Get your hands off me. _Get your hands off me_."

"I love you. There's nobody here."

no no no no no no no no no no no no

"Please! No!"

"Stop, Lori. It's all right. Just-"

She gets her nails against his skin and he steps back. He's staring at her with wide eyes and Lori can't move. She had scratched him, but he moved back because he decided to. She couldn't, she was, he could-

Then he's storming out.

Lori doesn't know how long she breathes in the rec room, hands on her head. When she get's back to their room the horrified screaming in her chest grows louder. Rick isn't there.

No. It's a good thing, he can't see her like this. Thank God Carl is fast asleep on the couch. Lori curls up under the blanket in the cot, pulling it tight around her shoulders. But she can't stop crying.

Rick comes back in and Lori feels frozen. He flops down on the cot, completely drunk. His hand is warm on her shoulder, gentle when he rolls her toward him, and he cradles her head his his hands. The stark contrast in feeling those hands create in her, the safety she feels, somehow make the tears come faster. He'd come back to her. Through unspeakable horrors he'd come back to her and she had betrayed him, her brave, kind, loving husband and she can't ever tell him.

He props himself up on his shoulder.

"You don't have to be afraid anymore. We're safe here. Alright?"

Lori sniffles and pulls his arm around her, his chest a warm weight against her back, and _cries_.

EVA

Eva has always cried in showers. When she was a kid and her brother would tease her. When she was an teenager and it felt like she would never be okay, let alone happy ever again. When her family couldn't accept her decisions and she felt so hopelessly alone in her pregnancy. 

She can't stop thinking about her own little sister. Their last conversation.

Chiara had been furious when Eva told her she was pregnant. Eva had been seventeen, Chiara barely fourteen and just getting into the swing of her moody teenage years. Eva hadn't been able to fix their relationship, at first too busy dealing with the combination of her pregnancy, Manny (who had impregnated her) and finishing her last year of high school. She tried, but she had had Luna to take care of and Chiara had spent as much time as possible away from the house. She'd gotten into Georgetown and barely visited.

When Javi evacuated them to that house in the boonies, Chiara had been at school, her first semester of graduate studies. She'd been crying on the phone.

Eva's forearm is almost completely healed- it's a faded sickly green and yellow. She had survived when Amy was- She shouldn't be crying now. Should be with Luna, making sure she's settling in okay. That that horrible video hadn't scarred her forever.

Eva's shoulders shake. She doesn't deserve to be here. Not when Amy, when all those people at the camp, the rest of her family- but she needs to be here. For Luna. So she shouldn't be wasting time under cold water feeling sorry for herself.

She catches Luna with Carol and Sophia in the hall.

"How was the rec room?" Her voice comes out in a strange rasp.

Luna just makes a sleepy sound in response and leans against her. Eva puts a hand on her hair. Sophia and Carl are good kids. They were always kind and patient with a younger kid hanging out with them.

"It's incredible." Carol says it softly. "We're going to be okay, you know?"

Eva forces a smile. What could this be like for Carol- getting here days after her abusive husband was eaten?

"Thank you for watching her for me." Carol smiles in response.

"Goodnight."

"Night."

She had thought about asking Daryl to share a room, but she had got too caught up in her useless guilt to get around to it. She doesn't have an excuse anyway, they are as safe as can be here. She knows he's fond of Luna, despite himself, but she doesn't know if he likes them enough to want to share a room when they've got options. She doesn't know him well enough to read if he likes _her_ at all, so she can't just say that she wants him close, to hear the sound of his breathing. It's too fucking weird. She's twenty-six years old, _she's_ the one meant to do the comforting.

Eva can't sleep. Her mind keeps fluttering from how horrible she is to images of that red flickering in the brain to all of the geeks she's seen. She lies in her cot, and feels Luna breath against her for what seems like hours when she hears it. Shuffling footsteps in the hallway. Her relaxed muscles tense. She should have fucking asked. She detaches her daughter carefully, untangling Luna's finger's from her hair.

The hunting knife is below her on the floor. 

She's barefoot for the first time in a month and the carpet feels strange under her skin. The door is silent when she opens it, faint click of the latch when she closes it behind her. The shuffling is louder now, to her right. She pads down the hall, and when she turns the corner she sees the penlight.

Her muscles relax. It's a person. Then the light blinds her.

"Bambi?" Eva's fingers tense on the handle. He keeps the light up.

"Merle."

He snorts and lowers the light

"What do you think of this place?"

Eva tries to unclench her fingers. Thinks about the room her daughter is sleeping in. This place is safe. Safe.

"There's a rec room further away from the rooms." Better to know what he's doing than avoid interaction.

Merle chuckles. "Now what would you want privacy with old Merle for, huh? You know I'm not easy like that."

Eva's skin crawls.

Merle whistles when he flips the light of the rec room. There's a bunch of arcade games on one side of the room. Tables and an abandoned chessboard. A couch with a low table and a checkers board. A desk and a few long shelves of books.

Merle has a bag on his shoulder. He steps over to one of the games and picks up a book on the floor next to it. Raises his eyebrows at the cover and shoves it in his bag.

Merle looks back over to her. "Guess there's some cheese here after all."

Eva remembers his rambling when they had first gotten in the elevator.

"You seem like you're feeling better."

Merle snorts and falls back on the couch with a grunt.

"Small talk from you? Look at us acting all civilized. Come sit down."

He pats the seat next to him, and against her better judgement, Eva sits down on the seat across from him.

"Didn't think so. You know, I prefer your daughter. She knows how to talk. Friendlier too."

Eva considers stabbing him. Daryl might kill her. And Luna would be sad. Merle's eyes narrow at her and he stills.

"Why don't you tell me who is was that knocked me over the head back at the quarry? No?"

Merle snorts and relaxes. "What's done is done. I'm not the type to hold grudges."

Their silence stretches. "Fine. What do you make of our host _Doctor_ Jenner? His little brain video?"

Abruptly, Eva doesn't care about how her actions might create a reaction. She doesn't care that it's Merle across from her.

"I don't think it's natural."

"No shit."

Eva runs a hand through her hair. " _No._ It doesn't make _scientific sense._ Geeks doesn't follow the rules of nature. Brains don't _restart_ after death-"

"Sure seems like they do now."

"-and looking at that video, this thing reanimates the brainstem, the cerebellum, the parietal lobe..."

Merle just looks at her expression unreadable. "Which is significant because?"

"You need to get them in the brain, right? They stop if you hit _any_ part of their brain." She hasn't been thinking about it. Hasn't been _able_ to think about it.

"And it's not like they come back to _life_. When I was running out of that neighborhood I saw- I saw one with- its ribcage was broken open and it was _still moving_. They can move without their lungs. Probably without their _hearts_."

Merle throws a pill bottle at her. It hits her in the head and falls to the floor.

"What the fuck?" Eva croaks out.

Merle raises his eyebrows at her. Her breathing is labored, like she'd been running. Oh.

"You can have one, because you have a cute kid."

Eva fishes the bottle out from under her seat and reads the label. She throws it back without opening it, and to her annoyance Merle catches it easily.

"Thanks."

Merle tucks the morphine back in his bag.

Eva surprises herself again by talking again. "It would be smart to stick to the smallest amount of that you can manage."

Merle's face darkens.

"Don't press your look luck." Eva knows she should just shut up, but-

"If we're all going to be here until supplies run-"

"Who said I'm staying?"

Eva freezes. "You think it's possible to survive on your own now?"

Merle smiles, mean, at her. "Won't be on my own."

Eva can't help it. "You're going to get him killed dragging him-"

"I have never dragged Daryl anywhere in my life." Merle is standing now, trapping her in the chair.

"Boy has always followed me on his own. He is my brother."

His blue eyes are cold on hers. He stalks out of the room. And Eva is stuck on his last sentence. He is _my_ brother.

It's only then that Eva recognizes the vicious undercurrent in her relationship with Merle. Merle is covetous of his brother and Eva is _envious._

It seems like when Eva wasn't looking, half the group got shit faced. Glenn is clutching at his head, and Lori is wearing an oversized jacket, dark bags under her eyes. Carl greets Luna brightly, but Luna's response is muted. She'd been tired and grumpy getting up this morning, and Eva had to resist the urge to smother her with questions and reassurances.

Eva has never liked eggs, but eating the warm plate T-Dog gives her changes her mind. His grin helps lighten Eva's mood.

Daryl sits down next to Luna with a groan and Eva hands him a glass of water, pushing the embarrassment from her revelation from last night down.

"Did you drink with Glenn last night?" Daryl's grimace briefly lifts.

"You should have seen how red his face got."

Glenn lifts his middle finger.

"Oh, sh- sorry Luna, sorry Carl."

After breakfast, Eva borrows Carol's sewing kit and starts a hatchet job of hemming her pants. Luna is scribbling aggressively on a piece of paper. Eva opens her mouth to try and start a conversation when the air conditioning stops.

The lights turn off.

When Eva opens the door, she sees the rest of the group doing the same. Questions pour when Jenner carries Amy down to the computer room. He sets her down on the ground, and Andrea sits down next to her, holds her hand.

Merle has his bag over his shoulder and raises his eyebrows at her.

Eva has a very bad feeling.

"The system is dropping all the nonessential uses of power. It's designed to keep the computers running to the last possible second. That started as we approached the half-hour mark. Right on schedule."

Rick looks at his wife. "Lori, grab our things. Everybody, get your stuff, we're getting out of here _now_."

It's stupid, the relief that runs through her when Rick takes charge. The alarms that sound a second later agree.

When the door rises, Merle loses his shit. Along with everyone else. Shane disarms Merle.

_high-impulse thermobaric fuel-air explosives_

"No pain. An end to sorrow, grief. Regret. Everything."

"Trapped like rats and now we're getting exterminated!"

The sound of metal on metal rings out from the axes against the doors. Eva holds Luna to her chest, heart pounding.

"You should've left well enough alone. It would've been so much easier."

"Easier for who?" Rick is furious

"All of you. You know what's out there- a short, brutal life and an agonizing death. You all know what this does. You've seen it. Is that really what you want for your wife and son?" 

"I don't want this."

"You _do_ want this. Last night you said you knew it was just a matter of time before everybody you loved was dead."

"What?" Lori breathes next to her.

"What?" Shane asks. "You really said that? After all your big talk?"

"I had to keep hope alive, didn't I?"

Jenner looks like he's been waiting to say, "There is no hope. There never was."

Rick shakes his head. And Eva _listens_.

"There's always hope. Maybe it won't be you, maybe not here, but somebody somewhere-"

"What part of 'everything is gone' do you not understand?" Andrea asks, next to her sister.

"Listen to your friend. She gets it. This is what takes us down. This is our extinction event."

"This isn't right." Carol cries. "You can't just keep us here."

"One tiny moment- a millisecond. No pain."

"My daughter doesn't deserve to die like this."

"Wouldn't it be kinder, more compassionate to just hold your loved ones and wait for the clock to run down?" 

Luna is a _fighter._ Sophia and Carl, the rest of their group, they deserve a chance to try. Eva wants to kill this man, with a violent intensity that scares her. Shane seems to agree, but ends up shooting the computers instead. Rick yanks the rifle out of his hands and hands it to T-Dog.

"I think you're lying." He tells Jenner. "You're lying about no hope. If that were true, you'd have bolted with the rest or taken the easy way out. You didn't. You chose the hard path. Why?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does matter. It always matters. You stayed when others ran. Why?"

"Not because I wanted to. I made a promise to her. My wife."

"Test subject 19 was your wife?"

"She begged me to keep going as long as I could. How could I say no? She was dying. It should've been me on that table. I wouldn't have mattered to anybody. She was a loss to the world. Hell, she ran this place. I just worked here. In our field, she was an Einstein. Me? I'm just Edwin Jenner. She could've done something about this. Not me."

Rick listens, and then talks.

"Your wife didn't have a choice. You do. That's- that's all we want: a choice, a chance."

"Let us keep trying as long as we can." Lori adds.

"I told you topside's locked down. I can't open those." He presses a few buttons and the door opens.

"Come on!" Daryl calls from the door. Eva rises to her feet and runs with Luna at her side.

DALE

"There's your chance. Take it."

"I'm grateful."

"The day will come when you won't be."

Andrea hasn't moved from beside her sister. Dale's heart sinks.

"Andrea, no. Andrea, this isn't what Amy would want for you."

"She's dying, and I'm going to die here with her. You need to leave."

The group is calling.

"I'm staying, Jacqui," Dale hears Jim say. "I want to be with my family. There's no time to argue and no point, not if you want to get out. Just get out."

Jacqui and T-Dog are looking at him. Shane and Rick and Glenn.

"Just go, go!"

He sits next to Andrea. Next to Amy.

"Okay. You win."

"What are you doing?"

"I said okay."

"Don't pull this, Dale."

"I'm not pulling anything. If you're staying, I stay too. He's right. We know what's waiting for us out there. I don't want to face it alone. Did I ever mention how I lost my wife?"

"Dale, get the hell out. I don't want you here."

"It was cancer. I dragged her to every doctor, every test. And after all the surgeries and the chemos, she was ready. She accepted it, you know? But I never could. And I spent the last few years so angry. I felt so cheated. Since she passed, you girls were the first people that I cared anything for. I'm staying. The matter is settled."

Andrea throws her arm around him. A moment later Jim's hand finds his.

Dale thinks that their group has a good chance of making it. They'd made it this far, impossibly. He's happy with that belief, imaging those kids grown up. Glenn older than him. He could see himself in a new life.

But he's okay too, in this moment in time, ending his story here. With Jim, Andrea and Amy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Divergence: Jacqui leaves the CDC, Andrea (and Dale) stay.  
> I initially planned to skim over this part of the show entirely, and keep it in T-Dog's perspective, but I'm trying to make sense of Lori's character.  
> I fucking love that Carol just keeps Rick's grenade. A very brief hint of what's comes later for her character.  
> I actually liked Andrea quite a bit, even with her terrible taste in men lol, but I feel like she wouldn't have been convinced to leave her sister, even to save Dale.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still think of Eva as Amy when I write haha, why do I do these things to myself.

T-DOG

When Daryl rolls the stinking body off of him and pulls him up, T takes back every bad thought he’s ever had about this cracker-ass redneck.

“Merle!” Daryl hisses.

“Seriously? Fine.”

Merle helps his brother heave T to his feet. His vision tunnels for a second.

“Come on man, let’s get you back to Eva.”

He feels drunk as they half drag him back to the RV.

“Oh my god.” Glenn’s face is pale.

“Where the hell is Eva?” Daryl's voice sounds loud, through his chest.

Carol is sobbing on the ground, Lori holding her.

“We need to wrap that wound.”

T closes his eyes when he's set on the pavement, back against the RV.

“I said, where is Eva? Where’s the kid?” 

“She took off after Luna and Sophia. Rick is with her.”

“ _Seriously_?”

The sound of a gunshot cuts through the voices.

Merle whistles. “That’s our signal- time to hit the road.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The voices start melting together.

“Uh, yeah. No way that _herd_ didn’t hear that shot. We need to turn around before _they_ do.”

“We’re not leaving.”

“Lori-”

“No. Rick is still out there.”

“My _daughter_ is out there.”

“Come on baby brother, let’s go. Bambi knows the score.”

“I fucking told you to stop calling her that.”

“I know you have a thing for that kid, but-”

Merle’s voice is cut off by the slam flesh hitting flesh.

EVA

Eva watches in horror as Sophia runs towards the woods, Rick behind her. Then her heart stops. Luna has slid down the windshield and is scrambling after. Eva sees Lori holding Carol as she sprints after her daughter. When she gets over the railing, Luna’s blue raincoat flickers before disappearing in the trees. Eva can feel a desperate sob in her throat as her feet barely stay underneath her, an ankle turns and there's no pain, she's flying down the hill.

Eva leans against a tree and breathes looking- there’s only _trees_ \- a raucous cry has Eva’s head twitching in its direction. She sees three birds fly out of a tree in the distance and she runs.

All she sees is more trees and then a creek. She can't get enough oxygen, he heart is thudding in her chest, she can taste copper in her throat, and her ankle is starting to throb. There's a stifled scream.

It feels like she's sprinting for eternity before she sees the walker, holding onto Sophia's ankle. Sophia is in a tree and Luna is curled around a branch a foot above her, holding onto the other girl's hand. Eva's legs give out.

The walker doesn't waver in its focus on Sophia above it. Eva forces herself to her feet, trembling with adrenaline. She pulls out the hunting knife and charges.

And misses. The knife sticks into the geek's neck, below its ear. It turns to face her teeth bared. Its hands are on her forearms, and then they're on the ground. If Eva grabbed the knife, she would have to use one arm to keep the geek's teeth off her and she can barely manage with both.

"Hey!" Luna calls "Asshole!"

There is a faint _thump_ and Eva _prays_. No no no, please no.

"Get off my mom!"

Luna is yanking ineffectually at the thing's shoulder. Ineffectual until _it_ decides to turn. 

Eva yanks the knife out with a strength she didn't know she possessed. She flips them over, knocking Luna out of the way, and slams the knife through its right eye. Eva yanks it straight back out.

" _Luna_."

"That was awesome!"

Eva drops the knife and clutches her daughter to her chest. It takes until her adrenaline fades for Eva to remember there's another kid with them. And probably more danger.

Sophia is sitting on a branch, just out of reach, and has her arms wrapped around the trunk.

"Sophia," Eva calls softly. "Are you alright?" Sophia sniffles, but nods.

"Yes ma'am."

"Where's Rick?"

It takes Sophia a moment to formulate an answer.

"He led the walkers away. He said he couldn't protect me and told me he'd come back."

Eva tries to think, but her mind feels blank. "Did he tell you to wait here?" 

Sophia shakes her head. "No ma'am. He said to stay under the tree in the creek, but I- I-"

"Hey, it's okay. You're okay, Sophia. That's what matters."

Eva can't remember where she's come from, where the highway is.

The sharp crack of a gunshot rings through the trees. Eva can't imagine Rick risking the sound after that _herd_. A shiver runs down Eva's spine.

"Okay. Sophia, can you climb a little higher?"

Sophia sobs a little, but moves her arms from around the trunk and carefully moves up. Eva lets Luna go. 

"You climb too, Monkey."

Eva picks up the knife and follows her daughter up the tree, arms protesting at the first, brutal pullup. She doesn't trust the higher branches with her weight, but hopefully they were out of the range of anything that could come by.

"We might be waiting a long time, but we need to stay really quiet."

Daryl finds them before more geeks do. He stares up at her, eyes narrowed. The tension in his body is visible even at a distance, as if in direct contrast to how she almost feels limp with relief.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Eva exhales. "Waiting for you. Have you seen Rick?"

"He's not with you."

Her heart sinks. "Should we-"

"Rick is a grown ass man. We need to get back. Now."

She eases herself down, and the half a foot drop still jars her ankle.

"Alright girls, you heard the man."

Luna hops down, unafraid, but Sophia stays where she is, clinging to the upper branches.

"Get down." Daryl snarls. Sophia flinches. Eva can see his shoulders slump. The fight go out of him.

"Come on girl, you're moms waiting."

It takes her a moment, but Sophia starts to climb down. Half way there, she slips. Her hand scrambles at the branch, but she can't catch it and she falls.

Daryl drops his crossbow and catches her before setting her gently on her feet.

"Let's go."

His long strides force the girls to jog a little to keep up, Eva limping behind them. 

Daryl shoots two more geeks before they get back to the road block.

Carol runs to her daughter the moment they're in sight. "Oh, baby. Thank god. You're okay. You're okay. _Sophia_."

"Where's Rick?" Lori's face is pale.

Shane looks ready tear his hair out.

Jacqui hugs her. "Thank God you're okay."

"We didn't see him. He left to take care of the geeks that were chasing Sophia. I'm sorry Lori, I don't know."

Before Lori can say anything else, Daryl gets in Eva's face.

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

Eva is silent, holding Luna against her. The rest of the group seems to be busy arguing with each other as well.

"Running into the woods? Hanging out in a fucking tree? You ain't my problem, I shouldn't have to be chasing you down-"

"Amy died." Luna says it into Eva's chest, voice small. 

"I stayed on top of the car last time and-" Luna sobs "-Sophia-"

Eva has never felt more inadequate than in that moment.

"We need to leave-"

"We _are not-_ "

"Eva, T-Dog is-"

"Get in the cars!"

It's Rick. He's running up the incline with a stranger in a hunting cap trailing behind him, rifle in hand.

MAGGIE

A little over a month into the apocalypse, Otis doesn’t bring back a deer, or more infected. He brings back _people._

Maggie had recognized him through her binoculars, in the unfamiliar truck driving toward them.

"Dad!"

A stranger had hopped out of the driver's side. He's tall and has a thick head of black hair. Maggie doesn't like how strong he looks- in his prime. Nothing like chubby Otis or her aging father.

"We're good," Otis calls. "A man in his group just saved my life."

Her dad sends everybody else back inside.

The stranger introduces himself. "I'm Shane Walsh."

Maggie eyes the gun at his belt when he shakes her dad's hand. She stays on the porch with Otis's rifle in hand, very aware that the other Shane's revolver was a much quicker draw, while her dad talked to Otis in the house.

"You use that often?" He asks her, friendly. No, charmingly, his dark eyes glued to her face.

"When I need to." She replies shortly.

He runs a hand over his hair, looks at her under his dark eyelashes.

"Look, I'm real sorry for springing this on you, I know strangers aren't always a welcome sight in times like these."

"Then why not let Otis borrow the car?"

His full lips curve up.

"Strangers."

Maggie doesn't smile back. Five years ago, Maggie would be thrilled to have a hot older man making eyes at her, half _because_ he seemed dangerous. Now, she wants to slam the butt of Otis's rifle into his smug face. 

After Shane accepts that his flirtation won't get him anymore than stony silence, they sit awkwardly until Dad sends him to get the rest of his people. 

Otis had convinced him somehow. Before the epidemic, Dad would have never dreamed of turning away strangers in need, but none of them are who they were anymore.

"I understand that this man, Rick, saved you. We'll feed them a good meal and let them stay a night, look at the injured man's arm, but you can't be seriously suggesting we keep them here."

"What?" Maggie asks.

"Later, Maggie."

"You didn't see them, Hershel. We need more men. A group of the afflicted like that- they'd tear us apart."

A shudder runs down Maggie's spine. She's seen a few stragglers about the town, but always at an uneasy distance. She can't imagine a group that big. Her heart clenches and her mind slips the barn.

"You said they were on the highway."

"I was off the highway when Rick found me, and there were three, a lot more heading towards us. Hershel, these people, we need each other."

"And you're comfortable inviting them in? With Beth, Maggie, and Patricia?"

"They have women, children. Rick saved me, when could have just ran. I think they're good people."

Dad sighs, heavy. "We'll give it a week, see how it goes." He looks to her.

"One of that man's group got Otis out of a bind and one of their people are injured. I've offered them medical attention and dinner."

Maggie feels a lot better about the whole thing when Shane's group actually arrives. It helps that a quarter of the group is made up of children. A man in a _sheriff's hat_ shakes Dad's hand and thanks him for their hospitality. 

Shane and a young Mexican woman help their injured man up the porch, onto the couch Otis leads them to. He's black and built like a footballer. The cloth wrapped around his arm has a flower print, blood seep through in a couple of small spots.

He smiles at her, where standing in the background. 

"Hi, I'm T-Dog." He says, and gestures to the woman. "This is Eva and Luna."

Maggie is perplexed by the name he gives before she double takes when she notices the sullen kid behind the woman, maybe 6 years old. 

"I'm Maggie."

"Thank you for letting us into your home."

Maggie doesn't really feel like she's _let_ these people do anything, but smiles back despite herself. Dad comes in to stitch him up a couple minutes later.

T-Dog flinches when the needle goes through, then laughs.

Dad pauses his steady hands. "What's funny?" 

T-Dog shakes his head. "Sorry, nothing's funny, it's just. I gave up on God for a good while there. I really did, but He didn't give up on me."

Dad smiles and continues his stitching. " _H_ _ow great is Your goodness, which You have stored up for those who fear You, which You do for those who take refuge in You, before people's very eyes_."

Maggie can imagine it, then. Getting to know these strangers. As Dad stitches, he talks shop.

"What are your medical supplies like?"

"Just a few more makeshift bandages. I've been using moonshine as a disinfectant." Turns out, Eva is their medical expert, not T-Dog's wife like she'd assumed.

“He’s probably going to need antibiotics, and we're running dangerously low on painkillers.”

Maggie nods.

"I should make a run into town." Shane eyes her, but not with the same heated look he'd been trying to use to manipulate her.

"Glenn's our guy for runs. I'll introduce the two of you later. I'd ask him along just to be cautious."

Maggie considers feeling affronted, but it's too ridiculous in face of reality these days. 

It's hard not to be frustrated, even if one of them _had_ saved Otis, trying and get dinner ready for that many extra mouths. One of the other women- Carol, with short grey hair- had offered her and her daughter's assistance. Maggie has the feeling that Patricia had thought it would be kinder to let them stay busy. They both have red rimmed eyes and look exhausted. 

Eva asks to take a plate outside to a man that 'probably wont be up for company right now'. She seems to understand how rude it is, and explains that he lost his brother earlier that day. Maggie can't help thinking about Shawn, out in the barn.

"Daryl Dixon may be the most- disagreeable man I have ever met, but he saved my life today." T-Dog says after she's left.

"When I slipped and cut my arm with that herd on us, I thought I was dead. They were following the smell, and one was on me but Daryl came out of nowhere, took down the walker, and laid it over me. Most disgusting thing that has ever happened to me, but it was quick thinking. The rest got confused and wandered by."

_Walkers._ Maggie suppresses a shudder. Dad and Patricia have a deep frown on his face and Sophia is pressing her face into her mother's chest. With the painkillers Dad has him on, T-Dog doesn't seem to notice the reactions to his story.

Shane introduces Glenn to her when they both end up seated at the kid's table- an Asian guy, about her age, about her height. He smells clean, but looks worn- like the rest of their group- and has muscles underneath his shirt. When he sits down, he takes his dirty baseball cap off and tries to flatten his hair. He blushes when he meets her eyes.

"I hear you're fast on your feet and know how to get in and out." Maggie drawls, unable to help herself.

He looks at her like she's speaking in tongues. Maggie can feel the corners of her lips pull up and ignores Beth's look.

"I'm going on a pharmacy run tomorrow, you in?"

The lost expression on his face doesn't fade and Maggie notices the fullness of his slack lips.

"Glenn used to go in the city alone." The little boy- Carl jumps in to save him.

"Uh-"

"Atlanta?" Beth asks.

"Yeah, um- yes, I used to go into Atlanta." His eyes flicker to Maggie's. "I'm in, if you need someone to watch your back."

"A little extra muscle never hurts."

"So are you all from Atlanta?" Beth asks, kicking her under the table. Maggie smirks.

"I'm from Kings County and Sophia is from near Marietta," the boy chimes in. Both of the little girls are quiet, withdrawn.

"I think Luna is from Atlanta though, right?" Luna nods.

No one asks how they ended up together- no way was it polite dinner table conversation. After seeing all those people, neighbors, friends, Annette and Shane, Maggie knew it was bad. But before, she could imagine that other places weren't hit so bad. That the army or someone would come through, like Dad said. Maggie drinks a long pull of water.

"You're from Atlanta too, Glenn?"

Glenn swallows the food in his mouth.

"I was there since college, but I grew up in Michigan." So he had to be older than her.

"I was lucky the area I worked in was mostly left untouched by the bombs- it made getting in and out of the city a lot easier." Beth drops her fork and Maggie's gut sinks.

"The bombs?" 

Glenn's eyes widen.

"Uh, they bombed the city. A couple weeks in."

They don't talk after that, and soon she picks up on the conversation going on at the other table.

Her dad is talking- "Just hoping we can ride it out in peace till there's a cure."

Maggie is sitting at an angle where she can see most of them. And everyone she sees looks either grim or disbelieving. The sheriff answers, one of the grim ones.

"We were at the CDC. It's-it's gone now. There is no cure." 

"I don't believe it. When aids came along, everyone panicked. One boy in town came down with it, and some parents pulled their children from school, so they didn't have to sit in the same room."

"This is a whole other thing."

_they bombed the city_

"That's what we always say, 'This one's different.'"

Maggie wishes she wasn't hearing this conversation. She doesn't want to think about it.

"Well, this one is."

"Mankind's been fighting plagues from the start. We get our behinds kicked for a while, then, we bounce back. It's nature correcting herself, restoring some balance."

Shane looks like he's ready to say something, but the sheriff's wife speaks first.

"It really feels like a miracle that Rick and Otis met when they did. We can't thank you enough for giving us a bit of respite."

Maggie isn't sure she wants to be part of Dad and Otis's conversation or not.

"What if they're right Hershel? Those people I saw on the highway, they-"

"If these people are going to stay, they need to respect my rules. Our way of doing things. I don't know if I can see that happening."

They don't talk about the barn. Maggie has seen Otis bring people back with a catchpole, knows that Patricia has been feeding them roosters, and she's done her best to not think about it. What good would thinking about it do?

Maggie stops at Beth's room. The door is open and she can see her lying on her bed with an open journal. She knocks on the door. Beth looks up and smiles.

"How're you doing?"

"They seem nice." Beth redirects.

Nice isn't the word Maggie would use. Tired. Traumatized. But it was nice to see Beth interact with Glenn and the kids at dinner, even though it was awkward. Beth has been quiet, serious, lately where before she would be soft spoken and lighthearted.

"Glenn is cute."

"Yeah? You thinking of trading in Jimmy?"

Beth rolls her eyes.

"It's nice, having other people around. I hope Dad lets them stay."

Maggie's smile fades.

"Me too."

When she gets to her room, Maggie stops thinking about Annette and Shawn and the barn and Dad and Beth and the world ending. She shifts her thoughts to Glenn's brown eyes, his broad hands, and his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Divergence- Luna follows Sophia and Rick. Otis finds that deer a little earlier.


	11. Chapter 11

DARYL

"I should have left you there."

Eva doesn't say anything back. She could be real quiet, contained. 

She hadn't said anything when she brought him the plate of food. Just set it down next to him in the truck bed. Stepped back when he stood up.

_I should have left you there._

She's standing, a meter back from him, weight on one foot. She's been limping since he found her in the woods. His throat is tight and his chest hurts and his eyes are burning. His arms thrum with energy. And there are so many words in him, so much anger and blame and regret he can't get any out. So he throws the plate and stalks off.

Alone.

He must have lost his damn mind on that road. Momentary insanity. Why else would he chose _strangers_ over his own brother. If he had just left them at the cabin, he'd be with Merle right now. If he'd left them at the quarry. If he had just gone with Merle at the highway.

Daryl tires himself out, walking through the woods, extra cautious of his steps in the darkness. He thinks about walking back to the highway. Winding through broken down cars until he can't anymore. Or until he finds Merle. 

Merle might be waiting for him down the road. He might have come back to pick him up. 

Daryl would leave for the woods for a few days or a few weeks, but Merle. Merle would leave for a few days or a few years. More than a few. And now the dead are walking. And he'd betrayed him.

He knows odds are he'll never see his brother again.

He set up a tent near a broken down chimney, and he sleeps for a couple hours before the roosters start crowing. He eats his last MRE and goes back in the woods. He finds the trail of a fox, but loses it after half a mile. When he can feel hunger set in he shoots three squirrels and heads back. The farm looks pristine. Classic Americana, with beautiful fields and a stately house. Daryl has the odd feeling that he's stepped into another world. One he has no place being in.

Eva has left a jug of water next to his tent. Daryl stares at it while he cooks the squirrel. It's confusing-annoying that she won't leave him be. Back at camp, plenty of people were tripping over themselves to help her, but she'd stuck to him anyway. Now, they've got this place, a farm, they don't need his hunting. His protection. Does she think she owes him something? She owes him her fucking life and the life of her kid, but he doesn't want it.

Doesn't want her beaming at him because she's happy to see him, that he's alive. Doesn't want to hear her commentary or ask how his day went. Doesn't want to see her annoyed face when he says something that pisses her off. Doesn't want her kid trailing after him with big eyes, or hugging him out of the blue.

He doesn't want anything

Rick comes over after he eats.

"Hey Daryl, doing alright?"

Daryl just looks at him.

Rick sighs. "I guess that was a stupid question. Look, let me introduce you to Hershel. This is his property, and Otis was telling me that he thinks he can convince him to let us stay."

A lot of responses flit through his head. Who the fuck said I'm staying? Like these people want me here. Like you want me here.

"Fine."

Hershel looks about exactly the way Daryl would imagine the owner of this property, this house to look like. White hair, neatly pulled back, shaved face, _suspenders_. Daryl would think that a guy like this would love Rick, but he can see that Hershel doesn't want _any_ of them there.

But he shakes Daryl's hand. Tells him that he's sorry for his loss. That he lost people too.

There's something off about him, but Daryl can't put a finger on what it is.

The kid runs after him when he walks back to his tent.

"Carl told me."

"What?" Daryl snaps, but the kid is so mad she it doesn't even seem to register.

"Carl _told_ me."

"Told you what?"

"That you got into a fight with Mr. Merle and made him leave."

The fury builds so quickly in his chest it's like a shock.

Daryl can see tears in her dark eyes.

For his brother who wanted to leave her to be eaten, his brother who- his brother who beat up kids that messed with him- who made him feel like shit- _who left-_ who came to his parent-teacher conference in 3rd grade after he got out of juvie- _who left-_ who harassed women- who held him against his chest when their mom died- who stood up to their dad- who left- _his brother who left him_.

"Nobody makes Merle do anything."

There's snot running down the kid's face.

"Then why did he leave?"

 ~~Because I'm worthless~~.

"I don't know."

The next few days, Daryl sticks to his tent and the woods. Eva brings over a few plates of food and neither of them say a word.

“Mr. Dixon.” The voice is quiet. Timid, but clear.

Sophia is standing four yards away. Her eyes are at his feet. A white flower is clenched in her left hand.

“What.” He tries for neutral, and it makes the word come out clipped instead of barked. The girl still flinches like she’s been struck. She's got brown eyes, lighter than his kid's. Daryl can feel a pit opening in his stomach.

It takes ten seconds for the girl to answer and when she does it’s in the same clear and measured tone she started with.

“I’m sorry about your brother.”

It takes Daryl longer to answer back.

“Wasn’t your fault.”

The girl’s face is twisted now, in some expression Daryl can’t read. Maybe anger. She nods and then turns around without another word. Walks past her mother just outside where the rest are camped, despite the woman reaching out to her.

A while later, her mom walks over.

Daryl raises his eyebrows, wondering if he's about to get chewed out for upsetting her girl- he remembers her slamming that pickaxe into her husband's head over and over and over- but she just holds out a bottle, white flower inside.

It's a Cherokee Rose.

"Thank you for bringing them back."

Daryl stares. "It weren't nothing."

The mom- Carol- has blue eyes. He's seen her meek, sobbing, but her gaze is steady now. Direct.

"It was." Daryl takes the vase.

"T-Dog has been wanting to thank you again, but I told him that he should probably give you space. Eva and Luna... you have a place with us. When you're ready." 

LORI

Waking up in the tent, for a moment Lori thinks she's at the quarry. Then she remembers.

It feels kind of unreal to be on the farm, like a dream. Rick tells her that he's spending the day with Otis and Hershel, trying to convince the man to extend their welcome. There's still plenty to do, so Lori asks Eva and Carol to keep an eye on Carl. She can't imagine what it was like for them yesterday, with their children in danger like that. It was bad enough with Rick, Lori doesn't want to think about what she'd have felt if it had been Carl in danger.

She's so proud of him.

Last night, Sophia had been too afraid to leave the car. Her sweet boy, he'd held out a hand. Said that she wouldn't get separated ever again.

Maggie, Hershel's older daughter comes to pick Glenn up, and Lori pulls him aside. It seems absurd to consider that she might be pregnant, but she's not willing to dismiss the idea, not when she can know for sure.

Lori finds Jacqui to ask her to come get water with her from the well Maggie pointed out. She's with T-Dog and Shane, who Lori had been doing her best to avoid.

"Mom! Shane!"

Carl is running over to them, he has an excited grin on his face, and Lori's heart swells three sizes. 

"Did you see Glenn on a horse?"

Lori laughs. "I didn't, I'll have to try and see him when they get back."

Carl turns to Shane, but Shane is still angled towards T-Dog.

"Shane, Hershel said that Beth might be able to show me how to ride a horse!"

Shane's eyes cut over. "That's cool, bud." He turns back to T-Dog,

"Think you'll be ready to head out in a few minutes?"

Lori can see her son droop, and suddenly she's furious. She puts a hand on Carl's shoulder.

"Go tell Sophia and Luna."

"But they already-" Carl cuts himself off and runs back.

Lori grabs Shane's arm.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

She pulls him far enough to have some semblance of privacy.

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"The way you blew him off just now. You crushed him." Shane is scowling, looking past her.

"I don't believe you. You're giving me the cold shoulder?" and then he's meeting her eyes. Matching her anger.

"Isn't that what you want? Aren't you the one who said stay the hell away from him and you?"

"You forget what happened at the CDC? Your little meltdown in the rec room slip your mind? When you tried-"

"When I tried to what? What do you think that was?" Lori isn't afraid anymore, just pissed.

"I think it is pretty plain what that was."

"A mistake. One that I admit to. I have a few mistakes under my belt, Lori. So do you." Lori can feel her lips tighten.

"No debate there. But Shane, we need to stop this."

"That's why I'm leaving."

"Leaving?"

"As in gone for good. Gonna quietly slip away first chance I get."

"You're just gonna disappear? You're not even gonna tell Rick?"

"He'd only try to stop me. No, that's on you. You tell him what you want. Or tell him nothing at all. You're his wife."

"And Carl? We dragged him into this."

"I love Carl."

"He thinks you hate him."

"I'm trying to put some distance, to be the good guy here, Lori, even if you don't see it."

Shane stalks back to where T-Dog and Jacqui _aren't_ watching.

"Everything okay?" Jacqui asks.

Lori smiles, tight. "Yeah. Want to go with me to get some water? Maggie pointed out the well."

Thankfully Jacqui lets it go, and their quiet until they get to the pump. Lori sets the bucket down and heaves on the lever.

"It's beautiful here. Peaceful," Jacqui says, "I wish they could be here to see it."

Andrea, Amy, Dale, Jim. It had been such a shock, that they hadn't followed them out.

"I thought about it, you know?" Jacqui is looking toward the planks covering the well. "Staying, not having to see more people getting ripped apart, not getting ripped apart."

She shudders and Lori doesn't know why it's such a shock to hear. The past week has shown how cruel their world could be, how brutal. Picking through those cars, like vultures. Lori couldn't help but remember that night. Sitting in traffic and the flames. They got out, because of Shane. If not for him, that would be her and Carl in one of those cars.

"Oh Jesus." Lori looks up and sees Jacqui stepping back from the well, disgusted expression on her face. "I don't think we should be using that water."

Hershel, Rick, Otis and Eva come to look at the problem.

"We've got to get him out," Hershel says, face pale.

"God knows what it's doing to the water," Lori says, stomach rolling violently.

"Even if we get it out, that water is not safe to use," Eva adds.

"How do we get it out?" Jacqui asks, holding her arms.

Otis rigs up a lasso and actually manages to get it around the walker's chest.

"Shouldn't we put a bullet in its head first?" Jacqui asks when they have the rope around it.

Hershel looks at her like she suggest he send his youngest daughter down with it.

"We don't shoot people on my property."

Lori's jaw drops. "That is not a _person."_

Rick puts a hand on her shoulder, like she's out of line.

"Your farm, your say. We may disagree on walkers, but we'll respect your rules."

The walker splits open on the edge of the well anyway. Turning her head does nothing to diminish the smell. Eva pulls out the knife at her hip.

Hershel's face is very, very pale.

"Shane and I are gonna take everybody out for firearms training tomorrow. Otis is going to stay here to make sure everything is okay."

Lori turns around to look at him.

"Sophia and Luna, their moms want them learning."

Lori can feel her jaw drop.

"Luna?" she hisses, aware of Carl sleeping next to them. "She is seven years old!"

"I told Eva that she shouldn't have a gun unsupervised, but Lori, I can see the sense in it."

The sense in it? Children should not have weapons.

"I don't want my kid walking around with a gun."

“He's growing up, thank God. We've got to start treating him more like an adult.” He's her baby. Her precious son.

"There's a reason this is an armed camp. You saw that walker in the well."

Rick's eyes soften looking at her, and he runs his hand down her cheek. Kisses her, light and lingering.

"We'll talk about it in the morning, alright?"

Lori nods and leans up to kiss him back.

There is a pink cross on the pregnancy test. She'd thought it was stress, and when she noticed that her breasts were swollen at the CDC, she had thought her period was coming. She'd been happy, thinking that it was a sign that things were getting better. When it never did she asked Glenn to grab a test just in case, not really thinking she could possibly be _pregnant._ But she is.

The next morning, Patricia lets Lori and Carl feed the chickens. There's a little gaggle of chicks, black downy feathers fluffed up.

"I want to defend our camp. I can't do that without a gun.” Carl's blue eyes are steady on hers and his expression reminds her so much of Rick that it hurts. She had almost forgotten last night's conversation.

He is growing up. He's still her little boy in so many ways, but Lori thinks about how he is with Sophia, with Luna.

Lori swallows. Nods.

"Don't look so worried," Carl says, flinging seed at the gathered birds. Lori's lips twist.

"It's my job."

"No, it's not. You're a housewife." Lori has to stifle a laugh, looking at her son's dancing blue eyes, just like his fathers.

"Yeah, punk? You see my house around here?" She throws a handful of birdseed at him. A housewife.

"They don't have a mother."

Lori follows his gaze to the chicks.

"She might be somewhere else."

"Maybe she got eaten." Lori feels a shiver of dread run down her spine.

"Everything is food for something else."  


Glenn corners her when she's boiling water and Lori knows he won't be able to keep his mouth shut, but she doesn't know what to do. This world, where children need to learn to shoot, to protect themselves from _monsters._ A baby can't protect itself. A baby needs care, constant attention. Babies can't hide quietly under a car, but Lori can remember Carl's pregnancy. They'd been _so happy._

Lori can also remember that first night with Shane. Her husband was dead, part of her dead with him. But Carl was alive. Shane was alive. She was _alive._ And Shane had saved her, before the dead started walking. When he told her that Rick had been shot. _You don't have to do it alone._

When Maggie and Glenn come back it's like having all of her fears of the future thrown in her face. She could have gotten them killed. Already.

"The blood on Maggie's shirt-" Lori moves her gaze of to Glenn's standing in the entryway.

"She was attacked."

"Are you guys all right? How bad was it?"

"It was pretty close."

"I'm so sorry. I should never have asked you to go."

"I offered."

"I thought the town was safe, but if you hadn't come back-"

"But we did. I always do." Lori can't help but smile at him.

"The morning-after pills, will they even work?"

"I don't know." and she needs to tell someone. "And I don't know if I want them to."

"Then I got these too, just in case."

Inside the crumpled up white bag is a bottle.

"Prenatal vitamins. That's a hell of a choice."

"I'm glad it's not mine. Lori, we're friends, aren't we?"

"With everything we've been through, yeah." Friends. Glenn was one of her only friends on the planet.

"I can't tell you what to do. I could never tell you something like that. But your choice- maybe you shouldn't make it alone."  
  


"I'm pregnant. I screwed up. I-" Lori feels her voice crack- "I don't know how we do this."

For a moment, Rick just looks at her. 

"We can make it work." He shakes his head, puts a warm hand on her shoulder. "We'll figure it out. Shouldn't we try to figure it out?"  
  
He's looking at her, touching her, but she feels like they are both cut out characters. Pretending at something that isn't real.

"Rick, Shane and I-" she can't say it. But she doesn't need to. He looks away. He's got that expression she used to hate. The one she can't read.

"I know. Of course I know." All of that agony she felt, not telling him. Not wanting him to have to deal with her betrayal, and he knew. The whole time.

Lori holds her arms.

"You thought I was dead." Rick's eyes are back on hers. "The world went to shit and you thought I was dead."

Lori nods, and then her arms are around him. His around her.

It feels the same as when she saw him alive at the quarry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Divergence- due to the different circumstances on the farm, Lori and Rick's relationship is much less stressed
> 
> I'm getting stuck on quite a few of the scenes for the last couple chapters, while the rest was coming almost obsessively. It will probably be a while before I finish this, but it's resting on a somewhat resolved note?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, I have not finished the last chapter yet! I'm not super content with this, but I do want to finish this and I think it's more likely to happen if I slog along with the momentum instead of waiting for inspiration and get distracted

BETH

Beth has always hated the smell of bleach. Cleaning out the cattle's water troughs has been one of her chores since she was thirteen, and every time she got a headache by the time she was finished. Sarah always made fun of her for complaining about the bleach instead of cleaning out the barn. 

Sarah had gone with her family to Atlanta early on. Beth focuses on the grey plastic in front of her. There is a lot more work to do with Mom and Shawn sick. Otis had come in to ask Jimmy to help them bury a person that had fallen in the well. Beth's stomach churns and she drinks some water from the hose before she rinses out the troughs. It doesn't feel anymore real then seeing all of the craziness on the news. And that hadn't felt anymore real than seeing violence in movies. Beth had never liked it when her friends wanted to watch violent or gory stuff.

Daddy, Otis, and Patricia wouldn't let her go anywhere near the barn where they were housing the infected. Maggie is tight lipped too, about what it's like in town. Before Otis came back with a group of strangers, Beth had felt like everything was a strange blip, like she was going to wake up one morning and things would just drift back to how they were before. Mom and Shawn would get better, she'd get calls from Sarah in Atlanta, school would open up again.

Beth likes the group that Otis brought back. Likes having more people around. It helps her get out of her own head. When she's talking to them she doesn't feel like she's just going through the motions of being a person, playing a role. The kids are all thrilled to follow her around when she's doing chores and all of the women are kind and friendly.

Unfortunately, not everyone else liked having them there. Daddy has been on edge and distracted. Jimmy hovers around her incessantly. Beth had overheard arguments between Patricia and Otis about how Otis has changed, that he's letting this new group of people corrupt his faith.

That afternoon is first time they argue in front of the family- when Otis talks to Daddy about gun training. Daddy looks like he's barely listening, but Patricia tears into Otis.

"You're just going along with whatever these people say? We were doing just fine before they showed up."

"Trisha, we all need to be able to protect ourselves."

Beth feels a shiver down her spine. Despite everything that was going on, Beth had never really thought that she was in danger. 

Patricia backs down when she realizes that Daddy isn't going to back her up. So the next morning Beth drives out with Jimmy, Otis and Patricia silent in the front.

It's a sunny, hot day. Like Beth used to love because Tallulah would come by and pick her up to go down to the creek. Shane- the dark haired man from the group hands out guns to half the people.

Beth hangs back, watches Shane explain how the safety on the different models work. Beth had never gone hunting or shooting before, had never had any desire to. The guns are louder than she expects.

Jimmy looks like an idiot. Beth is shocked for a second by her unkind thoughts. Beth likes Jimmy. He's nice and he works hard, doesn't complain. But Beth misses her friends. She misses Sarah and Tallulah and Anna. She misses Mom and Shawn. And Jimmy is around all the time and he lost his whole family so Beth never feels like she can ask him for space when she's feeling crowded. 

Feeling guilty about feeling that way makes her even more frustrated, especially as Jimmy explains the instructions Shane had given them slowly to her, hands lingering on hers as he hands her the gun.

Beth doesn't like the way it feels. Can't imagine shooting an animal, let alone another human being.

Carol is a few feet to her left and she has a grim look on her face as she listens to Rick's advice. Carol had always seemed so soft, warm. Shane is kneeling next to Luna, talking to her seriously. Carl is chatting with Sophia, who looks apprehensive. He'd managed a bullseye on his third try.

It feels wrong to see kids learning how to shoot like this. Like something is broken.

When they get back, Beth walks over to the grave. They dug it under the big willow tree and marked it with one of the big stones that Shane had bought to build a fireplace for Mom. Jimmy is by her side like a shadow, his hand big and warm in hers. 

"It was awful, Beth. They- he- He was in two pieces and the _smell_." 

Jimmy's voice breaks and he hugs her. Beth rests her forehead against his shoulder. She can't tell if the dampness there is from her sweaty forehead or him.

"God, I'm sorry. You don't need to hear that."

Beth puts her palm on his shoulder blades. They're shaking.

"It's okay." It's not. Beth doesn't want to be here, doesn't want to deal with any of this.

It gets worse in the morning.

The group found out about the barn and suddenly everyone is arguing with each other. Maggie is upset with Glenn. Daddy wants all of them off the farm immediately and Otis is trying to convince him to compromise. Beth knows what's going to happen, knows her Dad. Mom used to tell him whenever he would get frustrated with Maggie, that she got her stubbornness from him. Despite trying to ignore what's happening, Beth can hear Daddy and Maggie argue from her room.

"Rick was trying to make his case. It'll be hard. They'll have to be careful, but he was being dramatic."

Beth imagines Atlanta being bombed, thinks about the person that they'd found in the well.

"They're a strong group. They've done well on their own. They're just gonna have to go out and find their own farm. There's plenty of them now to chose from."

Like Tallulah's. Beth looks for her headphones. In her desk.

"There aren't. Every one of them nearby is burned out or full of walkers." By the bed

"Walkers?" Daddy sounds broken. "So we just keep these people here forever? How are they my responsibility?"

"A new command I give to you: Love one another as I have loved you. That's what you told me, right? I was mad about mom. Mad about you marrying Annette. I was 14 years old and I was awful, to you more than anybody. All I wanted to do was smoke and shoplift. Love one another. That's what you told me."

Beth's eyes are burning and her chest hurts. Her headphones were resting on top of her keyboard. The last time she had played was for Jimmy- after two months of dating he'd finally convinced her to sing him something in private. Before Beth could start singing, he'd gotten a call from his Mom, telling him to stay there. Shawn had driven with him the next day to check on them.

"Maggie. That was different."

"No. You're different. I am. But we're not. I love you. That's part of this."

"Is this about you and the Asian boy? Do you want me to-" 

Tom Waits drowns out the sound of their voices, but the music is grating. She just wants silence. Beth scrolls down and finds the heavy metal mix Kyle Maxwell had given her when they were in 8th grade. Sarah had teased her for months.

Beth doesn't go down for lunch, tells Jimmy that she's tired.

Maggie knocks on her door, opens it without Beth responding.

"Hey Beth, have you seen Dad?"

Beth hasn't left her room since she finished her chores.

"No."

Maggie is back a couple minutes later, face pale.

"Dad is gone."

Beth's heart drops.

"Otis, Glenn and Rick went to get him."

Beth's voice is croaky, like she just woke up.

"Get him from where?"

Maggie hesitates before responding. 

"Hatlin's."

Jimmy brings her out to the porch, and Beth has to shove down the urge to just scream at him to leave her be. The sun is bright through the kitchen, like it gets an hour before sunset. Carol and Lori are there, making dinner. Lori turns down her offer to help and tells her that Maggie and Patricia are on the porch. Beth forces a smile at the people there and leans against the wall.

Maggie is the only one that looks more anxious than Patricia, who is sullen and withdrawn. Sophia is tapping her thighs in an irregular pattern next to Luna and Eva, chewing her lip. 

"They're going to bring your Dad back." Carl is the only one at ease. "Glenn _always_ comes back."

Maggie gives him a watery smile.

"You're not worried about _your_ Dad?"

Carl shakes his head.

"Nothing's killed him yet."

It's an idyllic scene, the sun just starting to dip down.

Shane walks over like a storm cloud, violence in every line of his body, black bag in one hand and a rifle in the other.

Daryl, Jacqui and T-Dog are trailing him, grim faced.

"Slow down, Shane, this isn't the right way to do this." Shane ignores Jacqui completely.

Maggie is storming down the porch, Carl on her heals.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Shane ignores Maggie too.

"Look, it was one thing sitting around here picking daisies when we thought this place was supposed to be safe." He holds the rifle out to Maggie.  
  
"Can you shoot?"

"Can you stop? You do this, you hand out these guns, my dad will make you leave tonight."

Carl jumps in. "We have to stay, Shane."

Lori brushes past Beth on the porch.

"What is this?"

"We ain't going anywhere, okay? Now look, Hershel, he's just gotta understand. Okay? He, well, he's gonna have to."

He kneels in front of Carl and hands the little boy a gun. "Now I want you to take this. You take it, Carl, and you keep your mother safe. You do whatever it takes. You know how. Go on, take the gun and do it."

Lori storms down the steps and stands in front of her son. "Rick said no guns. This is not your call. This is not your decision to make."

Shane ignores her too, and turns toward the barn. Everyone follows him off the porch, like a magnet. Beth feels blank, like she's not in control of her body. Shane stops, about ten yards from the barn and Jimmy's hand catches hers, pulling her to a stop farther back.

"These things ain't sick." Shane is giving them a speech. His eyes are wide, crazy. Patricia's hand is shaking where she holds Beth's arm. "They're not people. They're dead. Ain't gonna feel nothing for them 'cause all they do, they kill! These things right here, they're the things that killed Amy, everyone at the quarry. They're gonna kill all of us."

"Now if y'all want to live, if you want to survive, you got to fight for it! I'm talking about fighting right here, right now."

Carol steps up and takes a rifle from him.

Ms. Eva grabs Mr. Dixon's arm, but he shrugs her off. "This is what needs to be done."

Shane steps up to the door, Lori and Carl on his tail. Beth can't hear what she's saying.

"Get back, Lori."

It takes five hits from the butt of the rifle.

The lock breaks and Lori grabs Carl's arm, runs back.

Eva tells Sophia to watch Luna and runs forward, and then all Beth can see is the corpses- corpses, not people.

Duncan, eyes sunken, shambling forward. Mrs. Fisher. Jimmy's brother. Lacey. _Shawn_ a bullet tearing through his forehead.

The breath punches out of her lungs. Jimmy catches her before she can fall.

The sound of gunshots slow, like popcorn.

Beth pushes against Jimmy's chest. She needs to see, can't keep her head stuck in the sand, not when that image of Shawn will never leave her mind anyway.

She stumbles forward, and there he is. Fallen below Mr. Fischer and Old Lady Jenny, but just beyond them is Mom.

Mom's hand is gripping her arm and she's pulling herself forward and there's a _pitchfork_ through her head.

CARL

Carl wakes up to yelling in the morning, the slam of a door. Their tent is empty.

Outside, Luna is sitting in her mom's lap by the campfire and the sun is just starting to rise. Neither of them notice him and the horizon is a brilliant purple pink. Jacqui and T-Dog are talking near the porch next to Dad and Shane, agitation screaming in their posture.

Carl hadn't been worried like his Mom was, but he does feel relieved when he sees him. Carl is about to run over to him when Luna talks.

“He didn’t look like a geek.” Her speech is slurred like she's half asleep.

Her mom's response is quiet, like she's talking to herself.

“Some people are monsters too, honey.”

Carl freezes and wonders for a second where Mom is. Why so many people are up this early. Had Dad just gotten back? Had they found Hershel?

Dad is walking out toward the woods, Shane following him. Both of them have dark bags under their eyes.

When those walkers went after Sophia, Carl hadn’t done anything. He’d just laid under the car watching his dad chase after them until Luna, the _seven-_ year-old followed. And Shane had stopped him. Had said he would just make more trouble, and he’d been right. When all the walkers came out of the barn, Carl had let Mom hold his face against her shoulder, and he hadn't seen any of it except for Beth's mom lunging up at her, Jacqui slamming a pitchfork through her head.

Carl's stomach rolls. He needs to grow up. He needs to know what was going on and he knows no one is going to tell him if he asks. 

Nobody is watching him now. Carl grabs a gun, the same one he learned to shoot on, out of the bag in the back of Daryl's truck and follows them.

The sun has risen almost completely before Dad stops, maybe a quarter mile into the woods. Carl steps behind a tree, heart pounding. His eyes are dry but he feels wide awake. Shane had spent the entire walk out talking about how Dad was making bad decisions and how Randall was going to be the ruin of everything. Dad hadn't responded, until now.

"You don't think I can keep Lori or Carl safe?"

"I didn't say that."

"Or my baby?"

"Rick, you can't just be the good guy and expect to live. Okay? Not anymore."

"I'm not the good guy anymore. To save Carl's life, I would do anything- anything. Now Lori says you're dangerous, but you're not gonna be dangerous. Not to us, not to me, not anymore. You and Lori- I get what happened. When I figured it out- and I figured it out pretty quickly- I wanted to break your jaw, let you choke on your teeth."

Carl's skin is tingling. He feels sick.

"-But I didn't. That wasn't weakness. It took everything. That is my wife. That is my son. That is my unborn child. I will stay alive to keep them alive. You don't love her. You think you do, but you don't. Now the only way you and me keep on is that you accept everything I just said right here, right now, and we move forward with that understanding.”

The silence stretches before Shane breaks it.

“When it started it was jus- it was a couple of weird stories on the news. Then, then it was so quick. Everything- it just happened. Two weeks later, I'm in the hospital and there were soldiers shooting people in the halls. They were shooting people, man, not walkers. Then the walkers came through. You know, I tried to get you out, I tried, but we weren't gonna make it. Man, there was no way and I knew it. But I couldn't live with it. I couldn't live, knowing- But I had to."

He pauses.

"I didn't keep Lori and Carl alive, man. They kept me alive. I don't think you can keep them safe."

Carl hears the click of a gun's safety turning off. Carl freezes like a rabbit.

"You shoot me," It's Dad talking now and this can't be happening, "Then what? How do you think this is gonna play out?"

"I saw that prisoner shoot you down. I ran after him. I snapped his neck. It ain't gonna be easy, but Lori and Carl- they'll get over you." No. "They done it before." No. "They just gonna have to." _No_.

Carl 's mind is blank, but he's moving, like a puppet on a string. Out from behind the tree. Hand gripping the pistol that was tucked in his pocket.

Dad and Shane don't see him, eyes glued on each other. Carl raises his arms, just like Shane showed him.

Carl pulls the trigger.

Lollai, lollai, little child, why weepest thou so sore?

Needs must thou weep, it was ordained thee of yore,

Ever to live in sorrow, and sigh and mourn in care,

As thine elders did ere this, while they alive were.

Lollai, little child, child lollai, lullow.

Into a strange world, surely, come art thou

Beasts and the fowls, the fishes in the flood,

And each sheep alive, made of bone and blood,

When they come into the world it is for their good,

All but the wretched babe that is of Adam's blood.

Lollai, lollai, little child, to care art thou decreed,

Thou little knowest the wild world before thee that is spread.

Child if betideth, thou shalt thrive to man's degree;

Remember thou wert fostered upon thy mother's knee;

And ever cherish, in mind and heart, those things three-

Whence thou camest, what thou art, and what shall come of thee.

Lollai lollai, little child, lollai, lollai,

With sorrow thou camest into this world, with sorrow shalt wend away.

Never trust thou to this world, it is thy fellest foe;

The rich it maketh poor, the poor maketh rich also;

It turneth woe to weal, then changeth weal to woe;

Trust to no man in this world, while it turneth so.

Lollai, lollai, little child, thy foot is on the wheel,

Thou knowest not how it may turn, to woe or unto weal.

Child thou art a pilgrim, born in sin and wickedness;

Look before thee, whilst in this false world thou wanderest,

For Death shall come with sudden blast, in a dim, dark hour.

Adam's kindred to down cast, as was cast before.

Lollai, lollai, little child, such woe to thee wrought Adam,

In the land of Paradise, through the wickedness of Satan.

Child, thou art not a pilgrim, but an unwelcome guest;

Thy very days are numbered, thy journeys are forecast;

Wherever thou mayst wend, to north, to east, or west,

Death thee shall betide, with bitter bale in breast.

Lollai, lollai, little child, this woe thee Adam wrought,

When he of the apple ate as he by Eve was taught.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that Andrea did do something relevant to this story- which was to stab Mrs. Greene with a pitchfork.
> 
> Any POV requests for the last chapter?


End file.
